The Riddle of Jim Lillian
by bobsaqqara
Summary: As the New Headmistress, McGonagall recalls the events of the tragic Final Battle she stumbles across a mystery that will involve Hermione, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Remus, and Kingsley, and make her question whom she can trust. AU pre HBP
1. Part One

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part One: Minerva's Tale I**

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING**: Major Character Deaths

Part One Summary: McGonagall reflects on the final battle and how she became Headmistress.

6th June, 1998

Minerva repositioned herself in the chair in a vain attempt to become more comfortable. She still was unaccustomed to sitting on this side of the desk. Of course, she had only been given one day to try and acclimate herself. One day since Minerva's world had changed forever. It had only been one day since Albus Dumbledore, arguable the finest Headmaster the school had ever seen, had retired without any notice or fanfare. It would take her a long time to get used to the idea that Albus was gone, and that she was the new Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It had also only been one day since the final battle.

The Light had lost far too many on that day, including old friends who had stood by her during the First War, and young ones who had not yet gotten a chance to truly live, like the three young men from her House.

The three men who would have been receiving their graduation papers in a week's time, but instead would be given posthumous awards for their parts in the battle.

Minerva turned her attention to the list in front of her, a list of names of students who would not be attending the end of the school year ceremonies. Every year, a few names would appear on the list. In the past, most of the students on the list could not attend due to a new job, or a death in the family, or other seemingly normal occurrences. Rarely, a family would receive their son's or daughter's certificate because of the student's untimely death. The lists in the previous years tended to be small, but that was not the case this year.

Under the heading of "Missing – Reason(s) Unknown / Unexcused" were the names of several students whose parents were known Death Eaters, including Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Draco Malfoy. The latter was a wanted man by the Ministry of Magic. No doubt Malfoy had dragged his two goons with him into hiding.

The next column of names made tears well up in the old witch's eyes. "Deceased:" Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley.

Thankfully Neville's parents were too catatonic to understand that their only son was dead. Minerva knew that Arthur and Molly Weasley were not as "blessed" as the Longbottoms, and her heart went out to them. Not only had their only daughter been savagely attacked and tortured, but they had also lost their youngest son. Well, two sons actually. Everyone knew that the Weasleys considered Harry as one of their own.

"Excused – Bereavement Leave" was the title over two names: Hermione Granger and Jim Lillian.

Minerva's mind wandered back to when she first sat on this side of the desk, looking at Hermione's sad face. Listening as the young woman recited in a drained, monotone voice, her recollection of the Final Battle. She recalled how she and Harry had run up the Astronomy Tower to help Ron, only to find the red-haired man struggling with Draco Malfoy. Then, they watched helplessly as Ron was thrown off the roof of the tower. After Draco disarmed Hermione, he apparently bragged about You Know Who finding out the full contents of the prophesy. And that he, Draco, was following his master's order in destroying Harry's wand as to prevent the Priori Incantatem from being cast when the Dark Lord would attack.

Minerva would never forget Hermione's face that day, nor would she forget what happened earlier.

* * *

5th June, 1998

Minerva never felt comfortable with the castle being so quiet; it wasn't natural. The halls were not filled with children. All of the students had left two days earlier for summer holiday, save for five.

Five members of the so-called "Department of Mysteries 6" had stayed in the castle: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Ron and Ginny Weasley. (That Lovegood girl was on some fool's quest with her father looking for some mythical animal in Papua New Guinea or someplace like that.) It was decided that since the majority of them would be coming back the following week for the ceremonies that it would be safest for them to stay within the secure confines of Hogwarts.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was quiet, and when he was quiet, it usually meant he was planning something. And usually it was something against Potter and his friends. It did not seem prudent risking an attack on the children as they traveled home, just to put them in harm's way a few days later during the return trip.

Of course Potter couldn't leave the school without staying one last night in the Hospital Ward. It seemed that he and the two Weasleys were playing a game of pick-up Quidditch and something happened to his broom, causing Harry to fall and break his collar-bone.

_Might as well check up on the boy, _Minerva thought to herself as she left her office.

She noticed that something peculiar was happening to the portraits in the hall, something they had not done since Sirius Black had attempted to break into the Gryffindor Common Room: they were panicking.

"What is going on with you lot?" Minerva asked a portrait of an old hag.

"It's the Fat Lady; she's calling for help," the magical painting replied. "She says something is terribly wrong!"

The portrait of the Fat Lady never exaggerated, hence the reason she was chosen to guard the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Minerva ran as quickly as she could to the Fat Lady. As she got closer, Minerva could hear the portrait's cries for help.

"What is all the commotion?" Minerva began to berate the painting when she heard the muffled screams of a girl coming from the room behind it.

"Professor, something terrible is happening!" the Fat Lady screamed.

Minerva rushed toward the painting and shouted out the password. As the painting started to swing open, the halls were filled with the painful screams of a young woman. The painting was opening much too slowly for Minerva, and with a strength that belied her age and size, she nearly wrenched the painting off its hinges trying to open it.

She ran into the common room, and the screaming stopped abruptly. Minerva looked in horror at the two bodies that lie in front of the fireplace. During the First War, she saw many things that would haunt her to the end of her days. The Second War brought many more horrors. But nothing in her past could prepare her for the sight that lie in front of her on the floor in the common room.

Neville's lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling, while Ginny convulsed and spasmed, blood and saliva foaming out of her mouth. As Minerva briskly walked over to the fireplace, she felt something brush past her. She spun around, whipping out her wand, and shouted a stunning spell.

"_STUPEFY_!" she yelled, and a beam of red light erupted from her wand, but it struck the wall harmlessly. Minerva strained her ears and eyes to try and catch whomever, or whatever, had brushed by her, but to no avail.

After looking for the invisible intruder for a moment, she continued towards the bodies and stepped on something that drew her attention. She had stepped on the remnants of a shattered wand -- holly by the look of the wood.

She discarded the broken wand and headed toward the two children. Neville was obviously beyond all hope, clearly the victim of The Killing Curse, a quick and painless death. Ginny was not so lucky.

She was still convulsing uncontrollably as she lie in a small pool of her own blood and vomit. Someone, no, some _monster_ had used a particularly strong Cruciatus Curse on her. The poor girl was drenched with her own sweat and had apparently bitten through her tongue at some point as blood was seeping out of her mouth. A streak of white now marred her beautiful red hair.

Minerva conjured two stretchers under each of the bodies and levitated them. She rushed as fast as she could toward the Hospital Ward.

After what seemed like an eternity, she threw open the doors of the ward.

"POPPY!" Minerva screamed. She saw Dumbledore standing with Harry and Hermione on the opposite side of the room. "ALBUS! HELP!"

Albus, Harry, and Hermione hurried toward Minerva and the two bodies as Poppy came running out of her office.

"Oh my god!" Poppy muttered as she looked at the two fallen students.

"Minerva, what happened?" Albus asked as he examined the Weasley girl. She informed him of what she found in the common room and of the invisible assailant.

"What about Ron?" Harry asked.

"He was up there with them this morning!" Hermione stated with dread.

"I didn't see him," Minerva responded, and Harry looked worried.

Albus stroked his long white beard as Poppy forced a vial of potion down Ginny's throat. After a brief moment, Albus spoke to Minerva.

"Minerva, go to the Ministry of Magic and collect everyone you can. Aurors, Hit-Wizards, everyone from the Order, and bring them here promptly! I fear Voldemort is going to attack."

"What, why?" Minerva stammered.

"I have reason to believe that Voldemort has learned the whole prophesy and has decided to move against Harry. Go now! There is no time to waste!"

In what seemed like mere seconds, Minerva had run to the Headmaster's office and used the fireplace to floo to the Ministry. It took several minutes to collect everyone who could help.

"Listen to me!" Minerva called out to the dozens of witches and wizards standing in front of the Ministry's many fireplaces. "There are several fireplaces in the school to which you can floo. You lot…" she pointed to the group on her far left; "floo to my office. You…" she pointed to the group to her right; "go to the Defense classroom. The rest, follow me."

Minerva turned and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire. The red and yellow flames turned green. She stepped in and said in a load clear voice, "Hogwarts: Headmaster's office!"

She prepared herself for the spinning sensation of traveling through the floo network.

Nothing happened.

She looked around and saw that everyone else was having the same problem.

"No!" Minerva shouted. "They have cut off the floo network to Hogwarts! Everyone who can, apparate to Hogsmeade; those who can't, floo to the Three Broomsticks, then head to the castle! Move!"

Dozens of cracks announced their arrival in the village outside the school. Minerva had just signaled for every one to follow her when Nymphadora Tonks pointed towards the school and shouted, "Oh, Merlin, NO! Look at the Astronomy Tower!"

Minerva turned and saw to her horror a giant green skull with a snake in its mouth hovering over the tower. The Dark Mark: Voldemort's calling card.

"MOVE!" Remus Lupin shouted from her right, and he led the charge to the castle. After a few minutes of running, the group had almost reached the front doors to the castle when they heard it.

A scream. A young man was screaming in pain from somewhere within the castle. It was a scream so loud that it felt like the earth was shaking, a scream so full of pain that it chilled Minerva to the bone.

"Oh gods, no!" she said as she trembled. "That's Harry!"

She saw all the color in Lupin's face drain. He staggered two steps and righted himself. Lupin seemed to say a silent prayer to himself, and then he bolted toward the doors. The rest of the group quickly followed.

Before they could reach the entrance, over two scores of Death Eaters came running out. Both groups froze as they looked at each other in shock. The Death Eaters were obviously not expecting any resistance, while the Ministry forces were not expecting the Death Eaters to be in retreat. A few of the Death Eaters appeared to be scratching in severe pain at their left forearm where the Dark Mark was burned into their flesh.

Then without warning, Harry's ungodly screams ceased.

"ATTACK!" a cold female voice screamed from behind a mask, and suddenly the air was alive with spells, curses, and hexes. Many Death Eaters and Ministry personnel cried out in pain as they fell.

Lupin, who had dropped all pretences of fighting instead of saving his surrogate godson, was forcing his way through the mass of black robes. He was physically pushing, shoving, and throwing Death Eaters out of his way. Minerva was on his tail shouting hexes and curses over Lupin's shoulders at anything that moved. In no time, Lupin and Minerva had pushed their way through into the castle.

"Where is he?" Minerva asked as Lupin seemed to sniff the air.

"This way," the old werewolf said as he ran down a corridor. Minerva followed without hesitation.

Soon they found themselves nearing the hidden entrance to the kitchens. The sickening smell of burning flesh hung thick in the air. The pair slowed as they saw two bodies lying in front of the hidden door.

The first body was easily recognizable as Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail. Remus walked up to Wormtail's body and roughly kicked his former friend.

The other body was less recognizable because it was blistered and smoldering as if he had been boiled alive. His unusually long fingers where curled up in pain and what was left of his nose was flat with two slits for nostrils.

"V-Voldemort!" Minerva whispered in disbelief. She examined the body more closely and it appeared that he had burned from the inside out. She also discovered a handprint burned into the fiend's forehead, as if someone's hand were on fire and held it to his head. Blood was continuing to bubble out from a horrible gash in the middle of the oddly burnt handprint.

"Where's Harry?" she asked, turning to Remus.

"I've lost his scent!" he said on the verge of panic. "Where can he be?"

"We'll search the castle…"

"That'll take too long!" he shouted.

"We don't have any other choice, Remus!"

Minerva and Remus began to methodically search the castle. They found a number of Death Eaters dead and several more bound, unconscious, or otherwise incapacitated scattered throughout their search (Lucius Malfoy, for one, had been Obliviated into a drooling vegetable). They also found the bodies of Professors Flitwick, Firenze, Sinistra, and Vector.

Tonks joined them shortly after they started their search and informed them that while they were victorious in the battle, some of the Death Eaters had escaped.

The Hospital Ward was filling up with the wounded. Remus and Minerva noticed that Hermione and Ginny were now missing as well. The Library was empty and so was the Gryffindor common room.

"Lemon Drops," Minerva said the password to the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office. She waited for the gargoyle to step aside, but it did not. She repeated the password. "Lemon Drops!"

The gargoyle slowly turned its head to McGonagall and said in a gravelly voice, "Headmistress, choose a new password for your office."

"My office?" she asked, and it slowly dawned on her what the gargoyle had inferred. "Oh no! Open up damn it!"

After the gargoyle obeyed, she ran up the stairs followed by Lupin and Tonks.

She had made this same journey more times that she could count over the decades. Each time she would see the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. Minerva let out a sob as she saw who was now sitting in Dumbledore's chair.

He was a short, bespectacled young man with unruly black hair and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. His eyes were closed as if he was peacefully asleep, but Minerva could tell from across the room that Harry Potter would never wake from this slumber.

"HARRY!" Remus shouted as he ran towards the young man's body. He fell to his knees and began to cry. Minerva could hear Tonks crying softly behind her.

Minerva walked to the desk as if she were in a trance. Her eyes took in Harry's pale, cold face and his bloodstained shirt. A small pool of blood rested under the chair. Her eyes focused on the large wound in his chest, and she had to tear her eyes away from the offensive sight.

As she looked around the office she noticed that Albus' little knick-knacks were still scattered around the room, but something was missing. The portraits of the former Headmasters were gone.

She turned to comfort Remus when she saw a letter written in Albus' hand addressed to her lying on the desk in front of Harry. With shaking hands she opened the letter and read:

_Dearest Minerva,_

_As you may be able to infer, I brought Harry back to my office in an attempt to heal his wounds. Alas I was too late. Even Fawkes' tears could not heal him. It seems that I have failed Harry one last time…_

_I have caused him so much grief in the past, all because I thought it was for his own good. For his own protection. Oh, Minerva, I should have listened to you all those years ago. It has dawned on me too late that we could have raised him here at the castle, with you and me as surrogate grandparents. It would have made his short life somewhat more enjoyable. But in my arrogance, I believed that Petunia would tend to Harry as her own child._

_That was the second time I failed Harry. The first was when I did not do enough to save his parents. And I have failed him so many times since then that I have lost track. I believed that he was too young or the burden would be too heavy for him. He could have at least prepared himself._

_So, it is with a sad heart that I have decided to roam the earth. I can do no more here; hopefully I can atone for my sins by helping others._

_As you know, I will not be found if I do not choose to be. So please, do not attempt to contact or find me._

_Please look after Miss Granger and Miss Weasley; they will need your support. And if I may be so bold as to assume, you will need theirs as well._

_With love,_

_Albus_

Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice drew Minerva's attention away from the letter.

"I don't know how to say it kindly; we found Ron Weasley's body at the base of the Astronomy Tower. However, we are still looking for Hermione and Ginny. The Weasley twins found some sort of map on Ron's body, and they said they'll be able to find the girls with it," he said. "We have set up a temporary morgue in the Great Hall. Should we move Harry there?"

Minerva looked to Remus who was still kneeling next to the body. "No, I think it would be best if he were placed in the Hospital Ward," Minerva stated. "It is a more secure location, and his body would be less likely to create a scene. You can place him on his personal bed there." Remus had obviously overheard because he nodded in agreement. An unknown Auror walked up next to Harry and pointed his wand at the body.

"Wingardium..." he began, and Remus shot up and savagely knocked the Auror's wand out of his hand.

"You will not treat him like a piece of trash!" Remus shouted. He bent over Harry's body and, with some difficulty, lifted him up. He struggled slightly as he carried Harry out of the office and down the stairs. Minerva followed him.

Hagrid's voice called out as Remus stumble again.

"Let me carry 'im, Remus," the half-giant said through his tears. "I carried 'im once before, I can do it again."

Remus nodded silently, and Hagrid took up the limp body.

"Let's go Harry," Hagrid said softy. "I'm gonna take you te see yer folks an' Sirius now."

* * *

6th June, 1998

Minerva wiped the tears from her eyes as she thought of poor Hermione. The young woman had lost so much in just one day: two dear, close friends in Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley, as well as the man she loved in Harry.

And her heart went out to Jim Lillian; a Hufflepuff under the class listing, who, according to the approved absences list, had recently lost his parents in a Muggle car crash.

Minerva paused as she tried to recall her impressions of Jim Lillian. She was drawing a blank when it came to him. Minerva did not remember what he looked like or if he was even in her classes.

The new Headmistress walked over to a cabinet and withdrew Lillian's school records. In it she found that he excelled in Defense, Potions, Charms, and even Transfiguration. In fact, Lillian was fourth in his year in Transfiguration, and yet Minerva had no memory at all of him.

But what bothered Minerva most about this mysterious student was that there was a glowing letter of recommendation for the Auror Academy for Lillian written by her. It was a letter that she was positive she had never written.

Minerva dropped Lillian's records on her desk and said aloud,

"Who the bloody hell is Jim Lillian?"

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: First off I would like to thank you for reading and reviewing my fic. I originally post this fic on May 2nd and a friend of a friend pointed out some grammar errors and typos. So I would like to thank my betas sasqch and Penelope78 for helping me with corrections and ideas.

-Bob


	2. Part Two

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Two: Hermione's Tale **

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

WARNING: Major Character Deaths and harsh language

Part Two Summary: Hermione tells her side of the final battle and how she lost the love of her life.

5th June, 1998 Late afternoon:

"Miss Granger?"

The office remained deathly silent, even though there had never been so many people crammed into the oval room. Minerva McGonagall sat behind the Headmaster's desk and The Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones, sat to her right. Scattered throughout the room were Remus Lupin (looking as if he were about to collapse), Tonks, Arthur Weasley, Hagrid (who was continually wiping his eyes with a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth), and numerous faceless witches and wizards.

"Miss Granger?" Minister Bones repeated herself to no avail. The young woman sitting on the opposite side of the desk stared off into space. The only color on her face was her red eyes. Her bushy brown hair was more wild and unkempt than ever. The Minister continued in a kind and compassionate voice, "Miss Granger, I am sorry for your loss, but we need to know what happened today."

Her red-raw eyes kept looking past Bones as if she wasn't there. The Minister looked to her left at the new Headmistress for help. McGonagall nodded.

"Miss Granger," McGonagall said in a tone that sounded as if she was going to ask Hermione a question in class about the theory behind some spell.

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione answered in a dead, emotionless voice while she continued to stare at nothing.

"Hermione, dear, we need to know what happened," McGonagall said. Hermione responded to her in a dead voice,

"Voldemort killed Harry." A collective shudder ran through the people assembled in the office, save for Remus. While the strong ones like Bones and McGonagall made no sound when they flinched, the rest gasped aloud.

A fire ignited behind Hermione's eyes. She slowly stood, and the room became cold, filling with the presence of Hermione's aura.

"How dare you!" Hermione scolded them. She turned and faced each one of them. "The man I love gave his life to protect you from that monster! He died so that you could all live in peace. And yet you still cling to that childish fear of his name?"

She leveled her icy glare at Arthur Weasley.

"VOLDEMORT!" she shouted at him, and he winced. She turned to the Minister. "VOLDEMORT!"

Hermione fell back into her chair and sobbed as the adults hung their heads in shame. Her cries echoed through the otherwise silent room for what seemed like minutes. Arthur's face was buried in his hands when he felt a trembling hand touch his arm. He looked up into Hermione's tear-stained face.

"I'm… I'm sorry Mr. Weasley," she hiccupped. "I had no right to speak to you in such a manner."

Arthur cupped the young woman's face in his hands.

"You have every right. Because you are right," he said through his tears. "V‑V‑Voldemort and his minions have taken the life of my... my Ron and Harry, and so many others. We dishonor their sacrifice with our fear."

The door to the office opened, and Kingsley Shacklebolt walked in and up to Hermione. He pulled a wand out of his robes and handed it to her.

"Hermione, we found your wand…" Kingsley paused and put a reassuring hand on Arthur's shoulder. "We found it under Ron's body."

Hermione clung to the wand as if it was her lifeline.

"It's a miracle it wasn't snapped," Kingsley finished.

Hermione uttered a quiet, "Thank you."

"Please Hermione, can you tell us what happened?" Minister Bones asked. "Do you know why You-Kno... Voldemort attacked?"

"I think he found out the entire prophesy," Hermione replied. She noticed the Minister's puzzled look. "The prophesy that led Voldemort to try and kill Harry when he was a baby. Only a few of us knew it in its entirety."

"And you know it?" McGonagall asked in shock. She knew only part of the prophesy and thought it had been lost two years ago. "The whole prophesy?"

"Yes," she replied as she fell back into her emotionless voice. "Trelawney made it before Harry was born. It was told to Dumbledore in the Hog's Head. I suppose I can tell you all of it now seeing that it has been fulfilled…

"'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'"

After a few stunned moments McGonagall spoke up, "That poor boy…"

"Of course it's all bullshit," Hermione stated flatly. McGonagall was taken back by her use of language. "The prophesy is bullshit. It said that 'neither can live while the other survives.' Seeing that they are both dead, it obviously wasn't true. Voldemort hunted Harry down, killing everyone close to him, just because some sauced-up cunt uttered nonsense about 'the power to vanquish' in a pub. Harry's life ended up as a nightmare for no reason.

"Somehow, Voldemort found out the contents of the whole thing and decided to act straight away," she continued. "Previously, the only thing holding him back from an all-out attack was his fear of Dumbledore and the prophesy about Harry. For all Voldemort knew, the prophesy could've said 'The One will kill the Dark Lord with his thoughts,' or some nonsense.

"Dumbledore was just as powerful as Voldemort, but much older, so he probably wouldn't have had the endurance to take on Voldemort and his Death Eaters for long_. And Voldemort didn't know the full prophesy about Harry. But since the prophesy stated that 'either must die at _the hand of the other' Voldemort didn't have to worry about that. The only problem that remained was Harry's wand; he wouldn't be able to duel with him because of it."

"Excuse me?" Bones interrupted.

"Harry and Voldemort had brother wands," McGonagall explained. "Their cores came from the same source, so whenever they would duel, Prior Incantato would basically cancel whatever spell each would attempt."

"So he apparently came up with a plan to destroy Harry's wand," Hermione continued in her dead voice. "But the problem was to get Harry away from his wand…"

* * *

4th June, 1998

The castle was eerily quiet. Normally the rooms and corridors were filled with hundreds of students. After term ended and the summer holiday started, only five students remained: Ginny, Ron, Neville, Harry, and Hermione. The five of them, plus Luna (she and her father went on an expedition to find Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in the Bahamas, or someplace like that, Hermione hadn't really paid too much attention), had become favorite targets for Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And seeing that four of them were going to be returning to Hogwarts in less than a week for their commencement ceremonies, Dumbledore decided to have all five of them remain, rather than risk their safety. Hogwarts was the safest place in the world after all.

It was a lovely summer day when they all decided to go outside and play a game of Quidditch, "they all" meaning Ron, Ginny and Harry. The three Quidditch fanatics talked Neville into joining, but Hermione was content reading a book from the viewing stands.

The teams were "The Weasleys," which obviously meant Ron and Ginny, and "The Prophesy Boys," an "in-joke" mocking the fact that Neville could have been the one mentioned in the prophesy instead of Harry. Neville was doing surprisingly well seeing that he could barely hold onto the broom. Neville had just scored his second unassisted goal, which was odd seeing that Ron was usually a "wall" when it came to blocking. Apparently Ron had a lot on his mind.

Hermione didn't even look up as she heard Neville's triumphant shout and Ginny's groan. She was quite happy reading, thank you very much. Her nose was buried in "Ridiculously Advanced Transfigurations: How to Transfigure the Untransfigurable" by Wilma Q. Shenker when she felt him watching her.

She grinned and felt a blush creep up her cheeks, as she knew he was just hovering a few feet away with a goofy grin. Hermione then heard Ginny's cry of joy and Neville's defeated groan to signify that the red-haired witch had just scored.

Hermione slowly looked up from her book to see the predicted goofy grin plastered on Harry's face. She unconsciously brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, Boy-Who-Can't-Pay-Attention!" Ginny shouted, teasing Harry's moniker. She threw the Quaffle over Harry's head. "It's your turn!" Everyone followed Harry as he shot after the soaring ball.

Then she felt it, they all felt it, an invisible curse or hex being cast in Harry's direction. It had happened so fast that no one had time to react. His Firebolt bucked and began to shred into splinters, causing Harry to be thrown to the ground with a thud and crack.

In an instant Hermione was at Harry's side. He was groaning, and his left arm was twisted at an odd angle.

"That hurt," Harry said softly before passing out.

* * *

June 5th, 1998 early morning:

Luckily, Madame Pomfrey was able to mend Harry's broken bones within minutes. She had given him some potions for the bruising and pain and ordered him to stay in bed. Hermione also believed that the school nurse had slipped him a sleep draught because Harry fell asleep within minutes of downing the potions.

Hermione stayed by Harry's bed all night; Pomfrey knew better than to argue with Hermione when she had her mind so obviously set on something. She was awoken several times throughout the night when Ron would come down from the dormitories to check on their friend.

She awoke in the early morning. The morning sun's light danced across Harry's features, and she blushed as she thought how nice it was waking up next to him.

"He's not up yet?" Ron asked from behind her. She noticed that he had heavy bags under his eyes, clearly from lack of sleep.

"No, not yet," she said with a smile as she stretched. "You didn't have to check on him, you know."

"I know," Ron said with a shrug. "I was just worried. Here."

He handed her the book she had left at the Quidditch Pitch.

"Thanks," she said cheerfully, and she opened the book, trying to find her place. Ron walked around Harry's bed and placed his typical "get well" gift of a box of Chocolate Frogs on his nightstand. After she successfully located where she had left off in the book, Hermione looked up at Ron and said: "What would I do without you Ron?"

"You'd manage," he replied as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Hermione noticed that besides the bags under his eyes, Ron was wearing a frown. It had just been a few days since his girlfriend left for a "fact-finding mission" with her father for his "newspaper," if one could call that rag a newspaper. And it seemed that Ron was feeling especially lonely and depressed ever since she'd been gone. He seemed to be doing nothing but spending most of his time by himself and brooding in the common room, rarely speaking to anyone.

"Ron, are you all right?"

"Yeah," he said in an indifferent tone. "I'm just tired."

Hermione rose and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his arm, and he dropped his head at her touch.

"Do you want to talk?" she asked as she rubbed his arm reassuringly. "Is it about you and Luna? Are you two ok?"

"Oh, yeah, just peachy," Ron said and raised his eyes to Hermione's. He continued with a forced smile. "Honestly, I'm just tired."

"Okay," Hermione said. "If you want to talk…"

"Honestly, I just didn't sleep last night much," he interrupted. "I'm just going to go back to the common room for a kip."

Hermione watched as Ron walked out of the Hospital Ward. She remembered Ron arguing with Luna to stay at the castle with him, but her father had been planning this trip for months, and she could not back out. Knowing how obstinate and sensitive Ron was, he was probably taking it as a personal rejection. Also, knowing Ron, he would see the error of his ways of thinking and come around in a day or two.

She turned her attention back to the slumbering form of the one she loved. Hermione smiled at the sight of the morning light causing his black hair to shimmer like a halo.

She sat back down and began to read her book. After a chapter or two, she looked up to check on Harry only to find Draco Malfoy lying in the bed.

Normally a sleeping Harry disappearing and being replaced by Draco Malfoy would have shocked and bewildered most people. But Hermione was an extremely observant witch so she noticed the telltale scar on the blond boy's forehead.

A jagged scar in the shape of a lighting bolt. She silently groaned to herself and went back to her reading.

One of Hermione's strong suits was patience. When someone would describe Harry, patience was not one of the terms one would use, especially when he was trying to play a prank on someone. Hermione could almost feel him open his eyes to see if she had noticed his little gag.

"I know you're awake, Harry," she huffed. When he did not respond, she looked up to see Harry's magnificent green eyes staring at her from Severus Snape's face.

"Then where is my 'good morning kiss', Granger?" he sneered.

Hermione smiled to herself, acknowledging that Harry was just as talented as Tonks in his ability to use his Metamorphmagus skills. Tonks had been talking with Harry the summer before his sixth year and found out that he had not gotten a haircut in over six years yet his hair had not grown either. That is when Tonks figured out his hidden ability. Dumbledore decided that only a select few people should know about Harry being a Metamorphmagus, the less the better. His theory being that keeping this ability a secret would give Harry a possible edge against Voldemort and his Death Eaters So, originally only three people knew: Dumbledore, Tonks, and Harry. After a few weeks of training with the other Metamorphmagus, Harry decided to share this information with Hermione. Harry and Hermione both thought it best not to tell their other best friend, Ron. They both knew that he would become irrationally jealous of Harry's new-found ability.

It was a shame that Harry could not change his two most distinguishing features: his infamous scar that Voldemort gave him when he was a baby, and to a lesser extent, his magnificent green eyes, which his mother gave him.

"Snape's" voice broke her train of thought. "Well, Miss Granger, where is my kiss?"

Hermione leaned forward and looked into "Snape's" green eyes.

"I would never kiss that face," she said flatly. "Snape" raised an eyebrow, and a crocked grin crept across his face.

"You're lying," he responded. Both Harry and Hermione had the uncanny knack to tell when the other was lying, but since Harry had mastered Occlumency and the basics of Legilimency, he had an unfair advantage. He was now a walking lie detector.

"You are lying!" he continued in mocking tone. "You WOULD kiss Snape! Snape, of all people?"

"Snape" made a retching sound. Hermione huffed.

"I know who you are, Harry," she said as she stood and placed her fists on her hips. "No matter who or what you look like, you will always be my Harry. And I have a 'thing' for green eyes if you must know."

Soft footsteps interrupted the young couple.

"Pomfrey is coming. Change back," Hermione ordered and watched as "Snape's" face melted and reformed into Harry's.

"I see that you couldn't leave without one more visit to the hospital," Madame Pomfrey said as she examined Harry.

"My future injuries just won't be the same without you, Madame," Harry joked.

"Well, it seems that everything is where it ought to be, so you may get dressed and leave now," Pomfrey said as she stood and conjured a privacy screen around his bed, blocking Hermione out.

Hermione waited outside while Harry began to dress.

"So what happened to my broom?" Harry asked.

Hermione heard a devious little voice in the back of her head telling her to peer in on Harry and see his bum. She fought the urge to obey.

"I was talking with Professor Flitwick about that," she responded and found that she had lost her internal struggle and was peering through the curtains. She was half relived and half disappointed to notice that her boyfriend had his back turned and his boxers on already. "He… um, said that it was a combination of two spells."

"No fair peeking," Harry joked as he turned and saw Hermione's eye in the gap between the curtains. Hermione blushed a red that would have made a Weasley proud and quickly turned. Harry laughed and said, "Please continue."

"Anyway," Hermione said a bit flustered, "the first spell was designed to separate the magical components of an object. The second shredded the object so much so that it would not be repairable."

"You can come in now," Harry said. Hermione opened the screen to find a shirtless Harry waiting for her. She unabashedly stared at his chest. Harry blushed as he tugged on his shirt. "So why would someone what to destroy my broom? Do you think it was a plan of Voldemort's?"

"I think Moody has been rubbing off on you," Hermione said, and Harry heard "Mad-Eye's" gravely voice in his head shout "Constant Vigilance!" Hermione smiled. "Not everything that happens to you is an evil plot by Voldemort, just most things."

She knew of course that it was most likely Voldemort; she also knew that Harry knew. Even though it was hardly likely that Harry would've been fatally injured from a fall and therefore beneath Voldemort, it still reeked of The Dark Lord.

"Then who?" he asked.

"Harry, every seeker in this school would 'kill' to ride that blasted broom of yours. Whoever did it probably did so out of jealousy. It could have been anyone."

"Like Malfoy."

"Not necessarily," she responded. A wry smile crept across her lips. "It could have been a Hufflepuff."

Both Harry and Hermione laughed at the thought of a "devious" Hufflepuff.

"I see Ron was here," Harry said as he saw the large pile of Chocolate Frogs sitting on the bedside table. "You could have woken me up."

"Harry, you were more than likely given a sleeping draught." Hermione put a comforting hand on his arm. "A herd of Hippogriffs could have charged through here and you would not have stirred."

"I know," Harry replied, and he held Hermione's hand. "It's just that I miss him is all. It seems that when we are together, he won't even look at me."

Hermione recalled that the once inseparable friends started to spend less time together over the previous summer holiday when Ron began to date Luna Lovegood. Then Hermione and Harry's feelings had finally blossomed shortly after the school year started. Ron split most of his free time between Luna and his Quidditch Captain duties, and much to Hermione's disappointment, nearly none of it on studying. Whereas Harry was forced to drop out of his Seeker position in order to free up more time for his special lessons with Dumbledore and his Head Boy duties. Hermione felt only a slight pang of guilt because she was able to spend more time with Harry due to her position as Head Girl.

"I know, Harry. But these things happen. Sometimes people grow apart," Hermione tried to explain. "You have those special Potions and Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore, which took up a lot of your free time. And our friendship has changed for the better, thank you every much by the way, so we spend more time together. Ron and Luna are a couple as well. And as for not looking at you when we're together, I think he finds it weird that you and I are dating," she chuckled briefly. "You know, I think he thought of you and me as being brother and sister. So when he sees us kiss it probably looks like a case of incest somewhere deep in his mind."

"He was my first friend you know," he said with a sad smile as he absently picked up a Chocolate Frog. "Hey, I know that you were watching me, so did you happen to see my…?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered in a mortified tone and her face turned a beautiful shade of crimson. "You had your back turned and your boxers on! I couldn't see a thing."

"Hermione, what I meant was 'watching me when I was brought in last night?' I was wondering if you happened to notice where they put my wand."

With a bashful expression, Hermione hid her face in her hands.

"You mean you're not talking about your…?" Hermione asked in an embarrassed tone.

"I don't know about you, but I'm talking about my wand; you know, made of holly, 11 inches long, phoenix tail feather core. Have you seen it?" Harry said as he waved his hand around as if he were performing a spell. She smiled guiltily and mumbled a soft "Oh."

"It was on the nightstand," Hermione said and walked over to the small table. She pushed the chocolate treats to the side and pointed. "I put it right there."

Harry knelt down and looked under the bed as Hermione stripped the mattress in a vain attempt to find it. They were distracted from their search when a long shadow crept across the bed.

"I hope I am not interrupting anything?" Albus Dumbledore said with a heavy‑hearted look in his eyes.

"Sir, we can't…" Hermione began.

"Not at all sir," Harry interrupted his girlfriend. He shot her a glance, and Hermione understood that Harry did not want to worry the old man with something as trivial as a misplaced wand. "Is everything alright, Professor?"

"No, I am afraid it is not," the Headmaster said with a sad sigh. "I have just received a most distressing package. It would appear that Voldemort and his followers have found out Professor Snape's true allegiance."

"What do you mean, sir?" Hermione asked.

"Severus Snape has been murdered," Dumbledore said unconditionally.

Hermione gasped and looked to Harry. She knew that Harry hated Snape and he still partially blamed the potions master for Sirius' death. Harry still believed that Snape could have given Harry a small sign that he had understood Harry's cryptic message of "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden." Harry always felt if Snape had nodded quickly, winked, or any other small sign of comprehension, that the six of them would not have needed to fly to the Ministry that night and Harry's godfather would still be alive. Hermione was surprised to see concern in Harry's green eyes.

"Why?" was all that Harry said.

"For some time, Severus had been out of the loop, so to speak," Dumbledore explained. "He was receiving less and less useful information lately. The only recent information that Severus has been able to communicate was that Draco Malfoy took the Dark Mark."

"Excuse me Professor, but did he take it willingly?" Hermione asked.

"The Dark Mark is part of a voluntary bonding ritual, where the servant pledges his allegiance to the Dark Lord," Dumbledore explained. "The servant must choose, for whatever reasons, to bond with the master. Therefore one cannot be marked unwillingly. Regardless of Mr. Malfoy's intentions, Severus discovered that shortly after the Marking Ritual, his former student led a raid on a Muggle home in which five people were tortured and murdered.

"Several weeks ago Severus had heard rumors of a new spy working for The Dark Lord, and that this spy would have a huge impact upon the war's outcome."

"Any idea who?" Hermione asked. "Or what kind of impact?"

"None," Dumbledore slumped slightly as he continued. "I believed it was imperative that we find the identity of this spy. Therefore, I ordered Severus to find out who he or she was, and what kind of impact they would have on the war, by any means necessary."

"And he got… caught?" Hermione gulped. The Headmaster nodded.

"Sir, this package you received; what was in it?" Harry asked. Dumbledore studied the two teens briefly before he replied.

"Severus' wand, snapped in half…" Dumbledore paused. "I believe they sent his wand so I could identify the other two… objects."

"Sir?" Hermione asked even though she knew she would not like the answer.

"His heart and his tongue," he said with great sadness.

"His 'lying heart and lying tongue,'" Harry said barely in a whisper.

"Yes, a most powerful 'symbol'," Dumbledore replied.

"POPPY!" McGonagall's panicked voice startled the trio. Hermione saw the Transfiguration professor rush into the Ward levitating two bodies behind her.

"ALBUS! HELP!" McGonagall screamed.

Hermione, Dumbledore, and Harry ran towards McGonagall. Hermione heard Pomfrey curse.

"Minerva, what happened?" Albus asked as he examined Ginny's trembling body. Hermione was about to perform an Ennervate spell on Neville when Harry held her wand back. She shot a questioning look at Harry who just stared at Neville.

"Harry, why…" Hermione began to ask when he turned to face her; she saw a single tear escape his eye. Slowly, Hermione realized what had happened to Neville.

Hermione looked into Neville's wide, terror filled eyes and gasped. She realized that she had never really seen a dead body up close before. When Harry had dragged Cedric's body out of the maze during their fourth year, she had been quickly shoved to the back of the crowd. So, she had only heard about the harrowing expression on the dead boy's face, now she had seen it firsthand in Neville's.

Harry embraced her in a comforting hug. Hermione heard McGonagall explain to Dumbledore that she had come across Neville and Ginny in the Gryffindor common room.

"What about Ron?" Harry asked.

"He was up there with them this morning!" Hermione said as an image of an injured or dead Ron lying somewhere in the common room.

"I didn't see him," Minerva responded and hope sprang up inside Hermione.

Dumbledore began giving McGonagall orders while Hermione and Harry checked on Ginny. The red-haired witch attempted to speak but only sputtered out thick blood. She was pleading to the couple with her eyes, willing them to understand something. Hermione gently stroked the younger girl's hair, her fingers tracing the streak of stark white that now ran through Ginny's hair.

"I have to find Ron," Harry said, and Ginny began to groan again.

"You mean 'we' don't you Harry?" Hermione corrected him. Ginny was now shaking and crying uncontrollably. "He is my best friend, too."

"Hermione, I..."

Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over Ginny who stilled slightly.

"Miss Weasley is practically in shock!" the nurse scolded Harry and Hermione. "I do not need you two bickering in front of her!"

"Harry, Miss Granger," Dumbledore called out to them. Hermione noticed McGonagall rushing out of the Ward. The two teens walked up to their Headmaster as Pomfrey performed a healing spell on Ginny's tongue. "I fear that Voldemort is going to attack Hogwarts."

"What?" Hermione all but shouted. "Hogwarts is the safest place in England."

"I believe that Severus' murder and this subsequent attack on Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom were just precursors for a full scale attack." Dumbledore turned to face Harry. "I believe that you and Miss Granger should stay here. I will go and gather the rest of the staff and warn them."

Harry nodded and Dumbledore walked out of the Ward.

"I have to go find…" Harry said as he turned and saw the determined look on his girlfriend's face, "we have to go find Ron."

The two teens raced out of the Ward and up the steps leading to the common room. As they approached they noticed that the portrait of the Fat Lady had been nearly torn from its hinges. After they entered, Harry immediately rushed up the stairs to the boy's dormitory while Hermione looked around the common room.

Hermione's eyes found a small pool of blood congealing in front of the fire.

'This is where Ginny and Neville must have been attacked', she thought to herself. Realizing that McGonagall would have seen Ron if he had been with the other two, Hermione forced herself to move on. As she walked past the pool of blood her foot stepped on something that crunched.

She knelt down and examined a long and narrow pile of wood chips and splinters. The young witch picked up one of the lager pieces and scrutinized it. Her eyes bulged as she recognized this piece of wood. She had seen it in Harry's hand more times than she could count.

"Hermione," Harry called as he came out of the stairwell holding a worn piece of parchment. "I need your help."

He walked up to Hermione and held out the parchment.

"I can't activate the map without my wand."

"Harry, I found your wand," she said softly as she held up the tiny piece of wood for Harry to see. Harry paled as he saw the remains of his prized possession. "It looks like someone used the same spell on your wand that they had used on your broom."

Harry looked silently at the pile of wood chips in front of Hermione for a moment.

"Where's the core?" he asked abruptly.

"Excuse me?"

"The spell was designed to separate the components, right?" he asked. To which Hermione nodded. "Well all I see is wood, no tail feather… where is the core?"

"I don't know, whoever did this probably took it with them."

"Why?"

"I don't know Harry, maybe as a prize to show Voldemort."

Harry seemed to ponder for a bit before continuing.

"It doesn't matter now. We need to find Ron and this is the quickest way," he said and held the parchment to Hermione.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she said as she touched the tip of her wand to the blank parchment. Ink magically appeared, and the Marauder's Map came to life.

Harry held the map in front of his face as he scanned it.

"I'm sorry about your wand, Harry," Hermione said.

"We'll worry about it later," Harry replied as he continued to check the map. "Besides, my invisibility cloak is missing, too."

"Who could have taken it?"

"I don't know," Harry's eyes widened. "Finally!"

"Is it Ron? Have you found him?" she asked. Harry nodded. "Where is he?"

"The Astronomy Tower," Harry knitted his brow. "Why would he be there?"

"I think he and Luna had a row before she left on her expedition," Hermione said as she headed towards the common room exit. "You know how moody he gets."

Hermione and Harry raced out of the common room and started towards the Astronomy Tower.

The couple ran in silence. She knew how pig-headed and jealous Ron could get and how it would get her ire up, but she had to go get Ron. The stubborn fool probably went up there this morning in a depressed mood and didn't know what was going on. She had to tell him what had happened to Ginny and Neville, and to warn him of the impending attack.

At the base of the stairs leading to the top of the tower, Harry called for Hermione to stop.

"Wait Hermione!" he held her back. "Something's wrong…"

A loud crash from down the hall drew their attention.

"What was that?" Hermione asked. Harry quickly scanned the Marauder's Map.

"Bollocks! It's Ginny!" he spat. "How did she get away from Pomfrey?"

Hermione pulled away from Harry and ran up the stairs.

"Harry, go make sure Ginny is okay. I'll get Ron," she shouted as she looked behind her. Hermione could hear Harry yell something after her, but she couldn't quite understand him.

She heard Harry running after her as she threw the door open and walked out onto the top of the Tower.

Hermione was, by far, the smartest witch in her generation, full of "books and cleverness." But she never would have predicted what she found on the Astronomy Tower that day, and it would continue to haunt her until the end of her days.

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas sasqch and Penelope78


	3. Part Three

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Three: Hermione's Tale **

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Three Summary: Hermione tells her side of the final battle and how she lost the love of her life.

5th June, 1998, _late afternoon_

The silence in the room was almost deafening. Hermione stopped her tale when she had gotten to the part when she reached the top of the Astronomy Tower. That was several minutes ago. She sat in her chair, still and silent as a statue.

"What happened at the Astronomy Tower, Miss Granger?" Minister Bones prompted.

Hermione cast a quick, furtive glace at Mr. Weasley and then cast her eyes on the floor. After a moment she said slowly,

"I saw Draco Malfoy push Ron off the Tower," she said in an almost rehearsed tone.

"What?" McGonagall interrupted. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione nodded slowly while still looking at the floor. "After Ron… died, Draco disarmed me and threw my wand over the Tower's wall. He boasted that this was his first real mission for his 'Dark Lord.' The little braggart couldn't even say 'Voldemort.'

"His first real mission as a true Death Eater, no more snooping around in the shadows of the castle listening in on petty, trivial secrets. Voldemort, through Draco's father, ordered the little blighter to get Harry's wand and destroy it."

McGonagall looked like she was going to be sick.

"Then he bragged about killing Luna," Hermione continued.

"What?" McGonagall whimpered. Her heart sank as she realized that she had lost a fourth student.

"He said that she had stumbled on his plans somehow," Hermione said in monotone. "Malfoy said that he had used her to practice his Unforgivables. He made her write a letter under the Imperius Curse saying that she was leaving with the rest of the students. Then he killed her and dumped her body somewhere in the Forbidden Forest."

Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"She was a good girl… a good woman," Hermione said through her hands. "Nobody understood her, not really. Luna didn't deserve that…"

Hermione fell silent as she attempted to compose herself. With tears streaming down her face, McGonagall turned to Hagrid and said,

"Hagrid, if you would…?"

Hagrid nodded his head and went out of the office in order to begin the search for the dead girl's remains.

"We figured…" Hermione paused. "I figured that he must have somehow gotten into the Gryffindor common room to steal Harry's wand. And that he attacked Ginny and killed Neville while on his mission. Ron probably heard the commotion and saw Professor McGonagall leave the room with Ginny and Neville. Then Draco must have snuck out after she had left, and Ron followed the pillock."

"So Draco was the person who used the unknown curse on Harry's broom?" Minister Bones asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Just to get Harry away from his wand?"

"Yes, ma'am, Harry was protective of his wand." Hermione slipped back into her dead voice. "Actually, he was overly protective of it. He never let it out of his sight, and barely anyone was allowed to touch it. Except for myself, and once, he let Dumbledore handle it last year during the Halloween Ball."

"What happened next?" Bones asked.

Hermione remained silent, lost in her thoughts for a moment.

"He really trusted me you know. Not just with his wand," she said as a tear ran down her face. "He told me all of his secrets, how those bastard Dursleys had mistreated him while growing up, how the Sorting Hat had wanted him in Slytherin. I was the first person to whom he told the prophesy. We weren't even dating yet, still, he told me. He told me even before he told Ron. He told me everything -- he told me his fears and his wants. Everything except…"

She fell back into silence.

"Hermione, dear, would you like to take a break?" McGonagall asked.

"He then cast the Dark Mark," Hermione said.

"Excuse me?"

"Draco, he cast the Dark Mark," she repeated herself. "It was a signal to Voldemort that Harry's wand had been destroyed.

"We saw a number of Death Eaters enter the gates. And then we saw Voldemort enter; the school grounds actually shook as he crossed the wards. Draco, being the coward that he is, jumped on his broom and flew away. He said that he didn't want to be caught in the crossfire.

"Harry and I decided that we needed to get out of there. So we went back down the stairs and found Ginny."

"So Miss Weasley did not witness Malfoy's attack on her brother?" Madame Bones asked. After a brief moment, Hermione nodded. Arthur Weasley breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of there being one less horror that his baby girl had to live through.

"We took her to the nearest professor's office to use the fireplace," Hermione continued. "We opted to floo to the Ministry, but it didn't work. We tried a number of different destinations, hoping that it was just the Ministry that was shut off. We gave up after we had used half of the floo powder."

"Somehow, the Death Eaters had severed the floo network going in and out of Hogwarts," McGonagall explained. Hermione nodded and continued.

"The three of us decided to hide in the Room of Requirement. The unique magic of the room would keep us totally secure if we wished it. But as we were heading there, we heard the Death Eaters.

"They were calling to Harry to come out of hiding as if they were playing a game. Taunting him by saying 'come out, boy,' and 'we're going to have our way with your Mudblood girlfriend.'"

Hermione closed her eyes and drew a fortifying breath before proceeding.

"That's when Harry stopped and said that it was time." Her voice hitched in her throat. "That it was time that he had to face his destiny. He could feel it. I begged him to let me join him, be at his side. But he said that I needed to help Ginny and that he couldn't do it if he didn't know I was safe.

"That's when he told me…"

Hermione, again, froze. She silently stared through McGonagall.

"Told you what, dear?" McGonagall asked.

"That he… he loved me," Hermione said as tears cascaded down her face. "That was the one thing he never told me. I knew he did love me. I could see it every time he looked into my eyes, every time he would touch me. He was just afraid that if he told me, if he actually said the words out loud, that something terrible would happen to me. Just like his parents and Sirius, everyone he loved died. He was afraid that I would meet the same fate. It seemed that the 'Powers That Be' were actively trying to keep Harry from being happy.

"He kissed me and ran off down the hall. He left before I could tell him that I loved him…"

* * *

5th June, 1998 _late morning_: 

"Oh, gods…" Ginny groaned with her not-quite healed tongue as she half-stumbled half-walked while leaning on Hermione for support. Harry had left them minutes ago, and Hermione began to strain under Ginny's weight. "What just happened? How could he have done that?"

"It's alright Ginny," Hermione said.

"How can it be alright?" the red-haired witch cried.

"It had to be done." Hermione pulled Ginny to the right and led her down another corridor. "And nobody will ever find out…"

"Why are we going through the basement?" Ginny asked.

"It's the best way if we want to avoid the Death Eaters altogether, if possible," Hermione explained. "Harry was able to draw off a group of them upstairs so that we could escape. I'm hoping that they are searching the upper floors first and have not made it down here to the basement yet. I don't want to risk running into any more of them without our wands."

Hermione turned another corner and ran headfirst into the black-clad figure of a Death Eater. Hermione gasped and looked past the white mask and into the small, watery eyes of Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, the man who betrayed Harry and his parents to Voldemort, the man who was also essential in The Dark Lord's resurrection.

Instinctively Hermione's hand flew at his face. Her blow tore Wormtail's mask off, and Hermione swung with her other hand at his exposed face. Hermione's nails dug into the tender flesh on his cheek. Ginny, without Hermione's hands to support her, fell to the ground in a heap.

In a flash, Wormtail pulled up his wand and leveled it at Hermione's face. She froze in place, her fist hung in midair ready for another blow.

Pettigrew hissed as his free hand touched the deep scratch marks on his pasty face. Blood slowly seeped out of the wounds.

"Pick her up," Wormtail ordered Hermione as he gestured with a nod of his head toward Ginny. Hermione did not move; her hand was still ready to strike at the vile traitor. He shoved his wand into her face, and in his most menacing voice commanded her, "Do it, now!"

Hermione hesitantly bent over and helped Ginny to her feet. Hermione stood protectively in front of the younger witch.

"He'll be coming this way soon," Wormtail muttered as his hands shook slightly.

"Are you going to turn us over to your master now?" Hermione asked with a little quake of fear in her voice.

Wormtail ignored her and his beady eyes darted up and down the hallway.

"If you let Ginny go, I will willingly surrender myself to Voldemort," Hermione said with more confidence than she realized she had. Ginny began to protest, but Hermione hushed her with a motion of her hand. "I am Harry's girlfriend; I'll make an excellent prize for him."

"Be quiet, you foolish girl!" he hissed. Wormtail's eyes bulged as he spotted something further down the hall. "There it is!"

Wormtail ordered the two girls to move down the hall; he made them stop in front of a large tapestry depicting a bowl of fruit. A silver hand extended out of Wormtail's robe and tickled the pear. The pear shook as if it were giggling and then magically turned into a door. Wormtail flung the door open and the hall was filled with the shocked squeaks of the house-elves who worked in the school's kitchen.

"Get in there! Now!" Pettigrew commanded. "The Dark Lord will be here any second. MOVE!"

Hermione and Ginny stumbled into the kitchen, and Pettigrew stuck his head in after them.

"You lot;" he barked at the dozens of house-elves, "keep these two safe. Do not let anyone in or out until this is all over. Understand?"

The house-elves nodded in unison, and Wormtail slammed the door shut. Hermione stood dumbstruck in the middle of the kitchen holding Ginny up.

"What the hell was that?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I'm jiggered," Ginny replied with a swollen tongue.

The two girls stood in silence, contemplating what had just happened as dozens of elves began casting various locking spells on the door.

"Wormtail," a strange high-pitched voice filtered through the door, "what are you doing?"

"Master!" Wormtail's frightened voice answered. "I… I was looking for the Potter boy."

"Oh, Merlin, that's him H..Hi..Him," Ginny whispered fearfully into Hermione's ear. "That's Riddle"

Hermione found herself trembling at the realization of who was outside the door and what Wormtail's true intentions could be. Why did Pettigrew put the two witches in the kitchen? Was he helping them hide? Or were they to be a prize for his master? Hermione tried desperately to stop herself from shaking but to no avail.

"You are hiding something," Voldemort hissed.

"No, no master! I w-would never hide…"

"_Legilimens_!" Hermione froze as she heard Voldemort cast the spell used to extract memories and emotions from the target. Whatever reason Wormtail was protecting them would be moot. Voldemort would find them.

"Potter's mudblood bitch," Voldemort chuckled, "and the blood-traitor. Why, Wormtail, were you trying to redeem yourself?"

"M-m-master, please…" Wormtail pleaded, "Please, let them go…"

"Why would I do that?"

"Potter's wand is destroyed…he is powerless without it. You can banish him and the two girls somewhere…"

"Don't be a fool," Voldemort practically growled. "Those two whores thought they could stand up to me, try to stop me from learning the entire prophesy. They need to be 'taught' a lesson. And as for Potter… when he dies, I will become immortal. No one will be able to stop me."

Voldemort's high-pitched laughter pierced the kitchen.

"Please, master… no more blood," Wormtail begged. "I cannot have any more blood on my hands."

"I was going to wait until after I killed Potter and the old man to give you your just reward… but it seems that I must deal with you first.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Hermione heard Wormtail's body fall lifelessly to the floor as Voldemort cast the Killing Curse.

"Now to deal with the whores." Hermione clenched her fists in a vain attempt to stop them from quaking and screwed up her courage. She would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of watching her beg for mercy, for he knew nothing of mercy. He was a monster who had attempted to kill a baby 16 years earlier just because a prophesy was made. Mercy and compassion were alien concepts to him. She prepared herself for her first, and last, confrontation with The Dark Lord.

"Ah, if it isn't the The-Boy-Who-Lived," Voldemort mocked. "You have saved me the trouble of looking for you." Voldemort laughed. "Your luck has finally run out boy. It is time you paid for all the trouble you have caused."

Hermione tried to scream, to warn Harry, to tell him to run away, but found that she couldn't make the words come of her mouth due to the terror that ran through her body.

"Just to let you know, after I finish you, I will take out my frustration on your little whore. _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Hermione expected to hear another body hit the floor but instead, she heard stone scraping against stone, and then an explosion rocked the kitchen.

"How did you do that?" Voldemort hissed in obvious pain. "You will pay for that, boy! _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

An ear-shattering sound of metal twisting and crumpling echoed through the air.

"Let me go, fool!" Voldemort shouted. "Your blood-protection won't work anymo…"

Someone, either Harry or Voldemort, Hermione could not tell which, began to groan painfully. His groan slowly turned into a pitiful cry. The cry suddenly stopped and was replaced by the sound of another body slumping to the floor. Hermione held her breath in anticipation.

"Well, that was a bit anti-climatic," Harry's voice filtered through the door.

For a half second, Hermione's heart sung. For a half second, all of the pain that she and Harry had been through, all of the deaths, all the sacrifices were worth it. For a half second, Harry and Hermione had a future. For that half second, Hermione was the happiest she had ever been, that half second before Harry started screaming.

It was an ungodly scream, one that made the castle's foundations rattle. It knocked pots and pans off of their hooks in the kitchen. Windows were shattering throughout the school.

But Hermione noticed none of this. She could feel Harry and his pain. It was nothing she could have ever imagined; to her it felt as if his body was being torn apart. And she could feel his spirit calling out to her, begging her to help. Begging her to make the pain stop.

Hermione bolted to the door; she had to help him, to stop his pain. A dozen elves physically blocked her with their bodies. She pushed and kicked them out of her way. In that moment, Hermione didn't care about the tiny creatures or their welfare; all she cared about was Harry. She needed to get to Harry; he needed her. For every one elf that she removed, another two took his place. Within seconds a score of elves were dragging Hermione to a stop.

Then, it ended. The rattling ceased. The screaming stopped. Harry's spirit no longer called to her.

Hermione sat on the floor for what felt like days, with Ginny trying vainly to comfort her. Even with Ginny and house-elves surrounding her, Hermione never felt so alone.

A loud pounding brought Hermione's attention to the door. She heard two muffled voices calling for Ginny.

"Open the door," Hermione said in an empty hollow voice. "It is all over."

It was all over. No more Harry, no more love. No more hope, nothing left.

The elves canceled the locking spells, and the door flew open immediately. A number of fiery redheads rushed into the room including Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"GINNY!" Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed. Her face was gaunt and pale; the only color came from her red eyes and tearstains.

"Mum… Mummy," Ginny sobbed as she reached for her mother. Mrs. Weasley scooped up her daughter as if she was a rag doll.

"Oh, my baby," Mrs. Weasley squalled.

"I'm sorry, Mummy, I'm so sorry," Ginny said thickly through her tears. "I didn't mean to…"

"Shh, it's okay, pumpkin," her father cooed as he gently stroked her hair.

Hermione felt two sets of hands come to rest on her shoulders. If she had cared to look up, she would have seen the twins, Fred and George, standing above her. But she did not care, not anymore.

"Let's get them to the Hospital Ward!" someone, possibly Bill, Hermione did not care enough to notice who, ordered. The twins pulled Hermione up, but her feet did not seem to want to work just then. Fred and George carried her out, following the rest of the Weasley clan.

The sickening smell of broiled meat filled the hallway. Pettigrew's body lay next to a blistered and smoldering body. A dozen witches and wizards stood around the second body with their wands pointing at it, as if it might jump up at any second.

"_Mon Dieu_!" Hermione heard Fleur Delacour whimper. Hermione looked up and followed the French girl's gaze and saw the giant, lumbering form of Hagrid walking towards them. He was carrying something small, something limp and lifeless.

Harry James Potter.

Hermione did not realize that she had started screaming. Nor did she see Remus Lupin walk out from behind Hagrid and pull her into a tight, comforting embrace. She did not see Ginny wrench herself away from her mother and father and limp over to join the embrace. She did not notice the remaining Weasley join either.

All she knew, all she realized was that Harry, her love and her life, was gone… forever.

* * *

5th June, 1998 _late afternoon:_

"And then I ended up here," Hermione finished. McGonagall and Bones brushed their tears away. Arthur Weasley had his face buried in his hands, his body rocking with sobs.

Remus walked from out of the shadows and stood next to Hermione.

"If we are finished here, I would like to take Hermione, and let her…" Remus sighed heavily, "I would like for Hermione to pay her respects and say goodbye."

Minister Bones mutely nodded.

Hermione could not recall Remus helping her up, walking through the long corridors or descending the stairs. But somehow she found herself in front of a body with a white sheet pulled up over its head.

"Hermione, I'm going to cast a privacy bubble around you and… Harry," Lupin said hesitantly. "If you need me I will be right outside."

"Thank you, Professor," she replied in her hollow voice.

With a bizarre sucking sound, an enormous black bubble appeared, surrounding Hermione and the bed on which the body lie.

She stood there for a long while, staring at the form under the sheet. Hermione slowly moved forward and folded the top of the sheet down, revealing Harry's ghost white face. She collapsed on top of the body.

"Harry, I love you," she sobbed onto his chest. "I love you so very much…" Hermione's fingers traced his cold features. "You never let me tell you that…"

The tips of her fingers ran over the familiar rough scar on his forehead.

"I had a dream the other night. We were a few years older, and we were walking in a park. We were each holding the hands of twins, a boy and a girl. They couldn't have been older then two or three. It seemed so real, I could even tell you what they smelled like and their names; the boy's was Sirius and the girl's was Aludra. That's a star in the same constellation as Sirius. In the dream, I was pregnant again, but I hadn't told you yet. I had wanted to surprise you.

"I wanted to give you what was taken away from you, what you always wanted, a family. I sorry that I can't do that for you…"

Hermione gazed at Harry's face, her eyes trailing up to his infamous scar. Her mind wondered back to when she first met Harry on the train; the first time she saw the scar in person. She thought it was cute the way it turned abruptly 90 degrees to the left side of his head.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she notice that the scar turned _right_.

"What?" she mumbled. It was on the proper side of his head, but Harry's scar was reversed; it was a mirror image. Hermione stood up straight and chewed her lip as her mind raced through all possible explanations. She came up with only one. For some reason, Harry's body had been tampered with, and she needed to know why.

She slowly stepped back from the hospital bed as she withdrew her wand. She closed her eyes and focused her mind on the image of his scar. Hermione brought her wand down and pointed it directly at the body and said clearly,

"_Finite Incantatem_."

As the canceling spell was cast, her wand was stopped in mid-air as if an invisible hand had blocked it. Hermione's eyes grew wide in shock as a hand appeared magically hovering over Harry's face.

To Be Continued

Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas sasqch and Penelope78


	4. Part Four

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Four: Minerva's Tale**

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Four Summary: Six years after the final battle, McGonagall confronts the enigma that is Jim Lillian.

* * *

8th June, 1998

It had only been two days since the final battle, just two days since Minerva McGonagall had been promoted to Headmistress of Hogwarts. She had heard that when the Headmaster departs that the transition was never smooth and there are always complications. Most of these complications tended to be small, such as getting the stone gargoyle to acknowledge the new Headmaster. But Minerva had never heard of a previous changeover being so difficult or having so many problems.

Luckily, Argus Filch had just fixed one of her smaller problems. It had taken him the better part of a day to re-hang the scores of portraits of the school's former headmasters. For some unknown reason, Albus had stored all of the portraits in a large soundproof room just before the final battle took place. However, the rest of her problems were not so easily fixed.

The first of her outstanding problems was that there was usually some kind of notice that the school would change hands so that the new Headmaster could prepare him or herself. However, in this incidence Albus Dumbledore had disappeared leaving only a note, allowing Minerva little time to ready herself.

The second of her problems was that the Commencement Ceremony for the class of 1998 was supposed to be held the next day; instead a mass funeral was now planned. Several professors and students were going to be cremated by the lake during the day-long ceremony. Several hundred witches and wizards were planning on attending, which was a logistical nightmare: mass portkeys had to be set up for the people who would not or could not apparate. Housing had to be planned for the people who were staying a day or longer. And then there was the food; the house-elves would be working throughout the night just to prepare the extra meals.

The third of Minerva's problems, and thus far the most bothersome, was the mystery of Jim Lillian. According to school records, Lillian was a model student who rarely got into trouble and made good marks in class. His records also held letters of recommendations from every one of his professors, including a particularly glowing recommendation from Minerva herself, written in her own hand. The puzzling thing about this was Minerva could clearly remember every single one of her students, their names, faces, and what subject they exceeded in, but for the life of her, she could not recall anyone by the name "Jim Lillian" ever attending Hogwarts. And she certainly never wrote him a letter of recommendation.

Minerva went as far as asking Pomona Sprout about this Lillian boy the previous day. She was, after all, the head of Hufflepuff, and, according to the records, Lillian was in her House. At first Pomona thought Minerva was playing a joke on her, asking her about a fictitious student. But she became serious when Minerva showed her the boy's records.

"But Minerva, I've never even heard of his boy." Pomona stated as her eyes darted over the records.

Minerva was pleased that she wasn't losing her grip on reality by forgetting a student, but was discouraged that this Lillian person appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Who was he? Who could have faked his records and why?

Minerva stopped her pondering, and her mind drifted to her fourth problem. The grieving witch who had lost the man she loved, who was quite possibly her soul mate: Hermione Granger.

The girl, correction, woman had decided to remain in the castle until the funeral instead of returning to her parents. Hermione's reasons were her own and not known to Minerva.

Just a mere two days ago, after Hermione had given her testimony of the Final Battle, she had left the Headmistress' office to say goodbye to Harry. Shortly after that, Minerva had finished with the Minister of Magic and had gone down to the Hospital Ward to pay her own respects as well as to check on the emotional wellbeing of her favorite student. Minerva had arrived just in time to see Hermione burst out of the opaque privacy bubble and dash out of the ward with her face in her hands while sobbing hysterically.

Remus Lupin had wisely suggested leaving the young woman alone for a short while, to let her grieve in peace.

Now, Minerva found herself in front of the recently repaired portrait of the Fat Lady. She said the password, and the portrait swung open. When Minerva walked into the Gryffindor common room, her senses were assaulted. The air was filled with the dank smell of a potion brewing by the fire. Minerva saw Hermione sitting by the cauldron reading a book and sipping tea.

"Good evening, Hermione," Minerva said. Hermione looked up at the Headmistress and a genuine smile appeared on the young woman's face.

"Good evening, Professor," Hermione returned the greeting.

"Hermione, dear, you have graduated and no longer have to call me 'Professor,'" Minerva said with a smile. "You may call me Minerva."

"That may get some getting used to, Professor," Hermione chuckled softly at her former professor's fake stern look. "Minerva."

"See, it wasn't that hard."

"Would you like some tea?" Hermione asked and conjured another teacup for the older witch. Minerva sat in a chair opposite Hermione as she poured the cup of tea.

A soft hoot drew Minerva's attention to a beautiful snowy owl perched on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Isn't that…Harry's owl?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, Harry told Hedwig to stay with me," Hermione answered quickly, then added, "Well, that is to say, I believe Harry had told her to stay with me if anything should happen to him."

"Hermione, how are you coping?" Minerva asked, her voice full of concern. Hermione stopped pouring the tea and was lost in thought.

"The best that I can," Hermione said. She leaned toward Minerva in order to pass the cup of tea. As she was leaning forward, a thin gold necklace dropped out of her blouse. Minerva saw a simple gold band with a small green emerald hung from the chain. Hermione continued, not noticing that Minerva had seen the ring. "I suppose I will always miss him, that. I will think of him every day… he is still in my heart."

"I am so sorry, my dear," Minerva said as she fought back her tears. She was amazed at Hermione's strength and courage; she was a true Gryffindor. After a few moments of comfortable silence, where neither woman would look at each other, Minerva gestured to the simmering cauldron.

"Hermione, what are you brewing?"

"That… um…" Hermione unconsciously started to play with the ring that dangled from her neck. "That's a… Dreamless Sleep Draught."

"I'm sure Poppy has some in stock," Minerva said. "You shouldn't have to bother with brewing a batch for yourself."

"Oh, well…" Hermione stammered while fingering the ring. "I suppose it helps if I am keeping busy, you know."

"I see…" Minerva replied. Hermione finally realized that she had been playing with the ring and noticed that Minerva saw it.

"I found it in Harry's trunk," she said, not looking at Minerva. "I… I think it is… or rather, _was _an engagement ring."

"May I see it?" Minerva asked as tears welled up in her eyes. Hermione silently stood up and walked over to Minerva. Without taking the necklace off, Hermione bent down to allow Minerva to better see the ring.

Minerva was stunned by the simple beauty of the ring. A small emerald that would have matched Harry's green eyes was set in a thin gold band. Simple as it was, she could tell that Harry must have chosen this ring out of love and it showed.

"It's beautiful, Hermione." Minerva could not bring herself to look at the young witch. She pulled a lace handkerchief out of her robes and wiped her damp eyes. After a few moments in which Minerva composed herself, she looked up and saw that Hermione was looking out the window. Minerva stood and walked over to her.

"I came by tonight to check on you, and to give you these." Minerva pulled two official looking scrolls out of her robes and handed them to her. "I know you are going straight to your parents' right after the funeral and won't be attending the leaving ceremony. These are your certificates, yours and Harry's." Hermione took them without looking at Minerva. "You were Harry's family, and I think you deserve to keep it."

"Thank you," Hermione said softly. "I take it the Dursleys were told?"

"Yes, and they took the news…" Minerva paused, trying to find the proper term.

"They were arseholes and laughed," Hermione finished for her.

"Unfortunately," Minerva said sadly

"What about the others, the ones who… won't be attending?"

"I will give Ronald's to his parents and Neville's to his uncle after the services tomorrow."

"What about Jim's?" Hermione asked.

"What … excuse me?" Minerva asked shocked.

"Jim Lillian. His parents died a few days ago," Hermione responded. "Are you going to owl his A-Levels, I mean, his certificate to him?"

Minerva was struck dumb. She had come to the conclusion that Lillian was a fake and that she would deal with him after the funeral. But Hermione brought him up without Minerva prompting her, mentioning that his parents died and that he would not be attending the ceremony. Hermione knew Lillian; therefore he had to be real. Hermione wouldn't lie to her, not like this.

"Yes, first thing in the morning," Minerva said bewildered. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs building in her brain and noticed the time. "Well, I think it's time for me to say 'goodnight'."

"Goodnight, Minerva."

* * *

9th June, 1998

The turnout for the funeral was astounding. The sheer number of people who attended exceeded expectations tenfold. It seemed that every single politician in Wizard England was there, paying his or her respects. And the amount of people wanting to give eulogies was nearly endless. Obviously, the politicians elected themselves to be the first speakers and gave the longest litanies. Nearly every speech glossed over the sacrifices made by the teachers, Ron, Luna, and Neville. They talked almost exclusively of Harry, some of the barmy, pompous politicians even referred to him as "Harold".

Minerva successfully tuned their stupid prattling out. She focused on the people who were truly grieving, most prominent were the Weasley Family and Hermione. Ginny had just been released from St. Mungo's the previous day and sat between her mother and father, white as a ghost. Hermione was rocking back and forth, sobbing.

When it came time to light the funeral pyres, a member from each family volunteered to cast the flame charm. One of Neville's uncles proudly lit the pyre. An ashen faced Mr. Lovegood lit a torch as a symbolic act for his only child. Hagrid had searched the Forbidden Forest for a full day and had come back with the terrible news that the acromantulas that lived in the Forest had already scavenged poor Luna's body for food.

Arthur's trembling hand set his youngest son's body aflame. Hermione stumbled toward Harry's corpse, her hand shook so much that it looked like she might drop her wand. Unlike the others who cast a simple flame charm, she cast a bluebell flame, one of her specialties, on Harry's body. The blue flames quickly engulfed Harry's remains and continued to burn for three full days.

Minerva could have sworn she heard a phoenix trill a song somewhere from the mountains.

* * *

1st August, 2001

"Not much has changed since the last term, so I won't waste your time prattling on about it," Minerva said to the professors assembled in the Headmistress' office. "Although, I would like to introduce, or rather reintroduce for some of us, our new Charms Professor, Hermione Granger."

Hermione blushed as her fellow professors applauded. Sprout, Pince, and Hooch were the loudest of the group.

"Now, I know all of you will help Hermione become accustomed to her new position," Minerva stated to which Morgana Derrick, Transfiguration Professor and Head of Slytherin House rolled her eyes, while Burdock Basil, Potions Professor and Head of Gryffindor, was practically bouncing in his seat. An obscenely tall and ridiculously thin man raised his hand to bring himself to attention.

"Excuse me, Headmistress…" the tall man drawled.

"Oh, yes, ladies and gentlemen this is…" Minerva acknowledged the man and shuffled through some parchment on her desk until she found what she was looking for, "Fernando MacGilacuty, this year's Defense teacher."

Fernando arrogantly bowed to the weak applause.

'_Another year, another DADA instructor,_' Minerva thought to herself. Hogwarts had still yet to break the "one year curse" of Defense Professor. It had become a running joke; a person would teach DADA for a year and then leave, if they survived mind you, with the bragging rights of teaching the most notorious class at Hogwarts. Each year it got harder for Minerva to find acceptable applicants for the position. And, if she were lucky, this pompous man would last most of the year.

As the professors got up to leave, Minerva signaled for Hermione to stay.

"Yes, Headmistress?" Hermione asked after the two women were alone in the office.

"Hermione, I have spoken to some of your classmates about Jim Lillian," Minerva said as she locked eyes with the younger witch. "I have yet to find anyone who even remembered him, besides you."

"That's not surprising," Hermione replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "He was very shy. He was a Muggle-born like me, so he felt ostracized by nearly everyone else."

"Did you feel ostracized?"

"Not really," Hermione said after a moment. "Maybe in the beginning. But I think that all of the adventures that I shared with Harry and Ron helped the other students accept me."

"I just find it hard to believe that you are the only person who remembers him."

"I can't explain why that is."

Minerva pondered for a moment, wondering if Hermione had a memory charm placed on her.

"I met him in the Hospital Ward when I was visiting Harry one day," Hermione said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"That boy did spend an awful lot of time in there, didn't he?" Minerva chuckled. Hermione smiled and nodded. "Hermione, would you mind describing what Lillian looked like?"

"Not at all. He isn't very tall, not that I should have anything to say about that," Hermione joked as she gestured to her own demure size. "He had long hair, and it was dark auburn, in a poorly-lit room it almost looked black. And, if I remember correctly, he wore glasses."

Hermione made her way to exit the office when Minerva asked her another question.

"Have you seen Lillian since you left school?"

"No, I haven't," Hermione answered without turning around to face the Headmistress.

* * *

26th September, 2004

Pomona Sprout ran into the Headmistress' office at an ungodly early hour waving the early edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Minerva!" Sprout practically shouted. "They've caught them! They finally caught them!"

"What are you talking about?" Minerva said irritably.

"The last of the Death Eaters!" Pomona said as she handed Minerva the paper. Minerva unfolded the paper and saw that a single story dominated the front page. Photos of a sour-faced Draco Malfoy and a sneering Bellatrix Lestrange adorned the headline:

**Last of the Death Eaters Captured!**

**Ringleaders Lestrange and Malfoy amongst prisoners.**

_The remaining 16 Death Eaters, including the infamous Bellatrix Lestrange and her nephew Draco Malfoy, were captured in a late- night raid in the Ministry of Magic. Early reports as well as comments from confidential sources within the Ministry indicate that the Death Eaters were caught in the Department of Mysteries performing a dark ritual in an attempt to (re-) resurrect "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."_

_An anonymous fire-call was received late last night saying that the last of the Death Eaters were going to attack the home of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, the surviving relatives of Harold Potter, the man responsible for defeating the Dark Lord. In a decision that left the Ministry unguarded and defenseless, every active Auror and Hit-Wizard was sent to Surrey to stop and apprehend the fiends._

_The Ministry forces quickly overpowered the Death Eaters as they tried to attack the Dursleys; all six Death Eaters were captured. That's right, six. In a perfectly conceived plan, Lestrange and Malfoy made the anonymous call themselves in order to draw off the magical law enforcement personnel._

_In a thought that chills this reporter to the bone, the ten remaining Death Eaters could have succeeded in their plan to resurrect the most feared dark wizard in recent history. Luckily for us, we have Jim Lillian on our side._

Minerva nearly dropped the paper. She had tried to investigate this mysterious Lillian fellow, but had gotten nowhere. She had asked nearly every former student and surviving teacher about him. Yet the only one who knew of him was Hermione Granger. Minerva had given up and hadn't even thought of him in nearly two years. Now suddenly, out of the blue, he was mentioned, by name, in a _Daily Prophet_ article.

_Auror Jim Lillian discovered the secret plot during his "controversial" interrogation of Theodore Nott. (See page 4 for Nott's Barrister's claim that Lillian illegally used Veritaserum.) Lillian attempted to get his superiors to return to the Ministry but to no avail. Apparently there are "rules" and "procedures" one must follow._

_Lillian disobeyed a direct order and went to the Ministry and took on the ten Death Eaters single handedly. Four of the Dark Lord's servants were killed in the battle (including Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe, Malfoy's personal guards) while the remaining six were subdued and captured. (See page 6 for more on Auror Lillian's amazing track record of 14 confirmed kills and 42 captures.)_

_A closed trial is scheduled for next week._

_

* * *

_

15th October, 2004

"Draco Malfoy, you have confessed under the effects of Veritaserum to the murders of the following people: Abraham, Jonathan. Anderson, Charles. Anderson, Mary. Anderson, Victoria…"

The Chief Magistrate's voice echoed off of the walls of the dungeon-like courtroom. He was reading names off of a very long scroll.

"Byers, Nelson. Carols, Anthony," he continued.

Minerva looked at the two condemned prisoners standing in front of the Magistrate. Malfoy was trembling so much he seemed to have difficulty standing as he stared unblinkingly at a small table in front of him. On it sat two small glass vials that contained thick black liquid. Draco's aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, stood beside him with obvious arrogance etched on her face, glaring defiantly at the Magistrate. Minerva could not believe Lestrange's audacity as she stood with her chin held high and an evil smile on her face. Minerva was appalled at the idea of capital punishment in general, but if anyone deserved to die for his or her crimes it was Lestrange.

Minerva forced her eyes away from the despicable woman. Her eyes fell on a man standing next to Kingsley Shacklebolt. He wore Auror robes, so Minerva assumed that he was a Dark Wizard hunter. The thing that drew her attention to him was that he was wearing fingerless Seeker gloves; an odd fashion statement to say the least. But something else about the man seemed familiar, something that Minerva could not place. Was it his glasses? Or perhaps it was his long dark hair that struck a cord.

"Redmond, Aaron. Richards, Donna." Minerva snapped to attention at the Magistrate's voice. He had already reached the "R's" in the alphabetical list of Draco's victims.

Minerva cursed herself silently for being so distracted that she did not hear the Magistrate read off Neville Longbottom's or Luna Lovegood's names. She forced herself to listen to the Magistrate, especially now that he was approaching the "W's." Molly Weasley nearly had a nervous breakdown at the thought of attending the execution of the man that had murdered her youngest son. Thankfully Hermione Granger and the entire Weasley clan, including the only grandchild, six year old Giselle, had returned to the Burrow to comfort the family matriarch and none of them could come and witness these proceedings. So Minerva volunteered to act as their witness for the dire event.

"Walters, Abe. Waterston, Eric. Williams, Andrew."

Minerva's eyes narrowed. They had not listed Ronald's name. Why? Was it to be read last? That did not make sense.

"Wood, Nancy. And finally, Yearling, Robert," the Magistrate finished as he put the scroll down. Minerva was about to voice her concern about the missing name when the Magistrate asked Draco for his final words. Draco paled even more as he looked up from the vial to the Magistrate.

"Oh, gods, no. Please I'm sorry!" the blond man sobbed. Draco fell to his knees as he pleaded for mercy. "PLEASE! I'm so sorry, just don't kill me!"

Minerva could not watch as Draco lost his remaining dignity. She turned her eyes and saw that the unknown, yet familiar Auror had averted his eyes as well. He was looking straight at Minerva. Even from across the room, Minerva was taken back by how deep and dark his brown eyes were even through the tinted lenses of his glasses. Then he did the most peculiar thing, he made a small wave to Minerva as if he knew her.

"Enough of this, GUARDS!" the Magistrate called out as he gestured at four large men. The men walked over to Malfoy. Two hoisted him up, while the third pried his mouth open. The fourth man picked up the vial and poured its contents down Malfoy's throat. The four men let go of Malfoy and walked away.

Malfoy coughed and sputtered in vain.

"No, no, no, no…" Malfoy chanted as tears streamed down his face. He turned to his aunt and pleaded. , "Please, help…"

A look of utter revulsion spread across Lestrange's face as she turned her back on Draco.

With a final plea, Draco fell silent and crumpled to the floor sobbing pitifully. After ten seconds, the poison took effect and he died. The four guards picked his lifeless body off of the ground and carried it to an antechamber.

The Magistrate unrolled an even longer scroll and cleared his throat:

"Bellatrix Lestrange, you have confessed under the effects of Veritaserum to the murders of…"

"Oh, sod off, you old fool!" Lestrange said venomously. "I killed them all with a song in my heart and a smile on my face. And I would do it again, just to please Him, my Dark Lord."

"You evil woman!" the Magistrate spat. "How dare you! If the Ministry still had the Dementors, I would demand that you receive their 'kiss.'"

Lestrange laughed as she casually strolled to the small table and picked up the vial. She raised it to her lips and stopped. She drew it away from her mouth and addressed herself to the witness stand.

"Be warned, my Master will rise… Again! And his wrath shall know no bounds. You will all suffer at his hands."

Movement caught Minerva's attention. The unknown Auror was walking up behind Lestrange. Shacklebolt called out to him.

"Lillian, what are you doing?" he hissed.

That was Jim Lillian? The mystery man was right in front of Minerva; she had finally seen him. She would finally be able to confront him.

"And He will reward me, His most loyal servant," Lestrange continued to rant, oblivious to the man walking up behind her. "He will resurrect me, and I shall rule at His side for eternity!"

She gulped down the black liquid and threw the vial to the floor, her face bright with rage. Lillian tapped her on the shoulder. Lestrange spun around and looked him in the eye. He leaned in close to her, so much so that his face was obscured by hers. Lillian whispered something to her as he lowered his glasses.

Then Lestrange shocked the room by reacting in the most unexpected manner, she screamed, but not in rage.

"NO! NO! NO!" Lestrange cried out, and her face became as white as a ghost and her eyes were wide in terror. "It's not fair! He's… you're…. NO!"

She tried to take a step backwards but fell to the floor. Lestrange continued to sputter and cry.

"NO! All of His plans… my plans… NOTHING!"

Lillian turned around and walked to the courtroom exit.

"HE… YOU CAN'T BE ALI…" Lestrange gasped before the poison finally ran its course, taking her life.

Shocked faces filled the courtroom as Lillian slammed the door shut behind him. Minerva ran after him.

By the time that Minerva had gotten to the bank of lifts, Lillian had already taken one of them up to the lobby.

"Damn!" she cursed out loud as she pounded the call. She was so close to unraveling the mystery of this man, and now she would lose her chance to talk to him due to these infernal contraptions.

The bell chimed alerting Minerva that a lift had arrived. She wrenched the door open and banged on the button for the lobby.

Minerva ran out of the lift when it finally reached the lobby. She stopped running when she saw him standing there in front of her. Lillian was looking up at the atrocious statue that adorned the Ministry lobby.

"Harold Potter: The Hero of the Wizarding World".

Minerva had been there four years ago when the Ministry had unveiled it. She was shocked to say the least. It was bad enough that people were refusing to call him by the name his parents gave him; they all thought that "Harry" was too common for their savior. But to insult his memory even further, this statue looked nothing like Harry.

This monstrosity had bulging, rippling muscles, and long flowing hair. It looked like one of those models from the cover of some trashy Muggle romance novel.

"It's funny, isn't it, Professor," Lillian said as he noticed Minerva walk up to him, "how people's memories and recollections change over time? I mean I've seen a color painting, not magical, mind you, of Potter where he had blue eyes and brown hair. Strange, isn't it?"

"Yes it is," Minerva replied. She was slightly taken back at the man's height, or rather lack of it. When Hermione described him as being "not very tall" she was overestimating. Lillian was short, tiny almost. Minerva didn't seem to notice his short stature when he was standing next to Shacklebolt, maybe it was the way he held himself.

"What is truly ironic is that I find you here mentioning memories and recollections and I have none of you, Mr. Lillian."

"Ouch, Professor," Lillian chuckled. "You really know how to knock a bloke off of his high hippogriff, don't you?"

"I am being completely serious, Mr. Lillian," Minerva cut him off. "Although Hogwarts has records saying that you attended, I can honestly say I have never met you before today. And I remember every single one of my students. I am not the only person who has no recollection of you. I have spoken to a number of your classmates along with the surviving teachers, including Professor Sprout, your Head of House, and they have no memories of you."

"I knew I was quiet in school but I didn't realize that I was that quiet," he replied with a slight grin. "Are you saying that no one remembers me?"

"No, I know of only one person who remembers you."

"And do you trust her?"

"Of course I do…" Minerva froze. Did he know that she was referring to Hermione? "Her? I never said that the person was a man or woman, Mr. Lillian."

Before Lillian could respond, a booming baritone voice called out to them.

"LILLIAN!" Shacklebolt shouted. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"Hello, Kingsley. Have you met Professor McGonagall?"

"I sorry to interrupt, Minerva, but the new Minister is throwing a fit," Kingsley said as he greeted Minerva. He turned to Lillian. "What the hell did you say to Lestrange that made her freak out that way?"

"Not much. I merely told her that she was most likely going to end up in hell," Lillian said with a wave of his hand.

"What?" Shacklebolt said disbelievingly. "Come on, Jim. She would not have reacted like that. Minister Driscoll is saying that you violated her right to meet death with peace and honor..."

Lillian's grin disappeared and a fire erupted in his eyes behind his glasses as he snapped at Kingsley.

"'Peace and honor?'" he spat. "You're telling me that woman deserved 'peace' and 'honor?' Under Veritaserum she admitted to regularly having an orgasm while using the Cruciatus Curse; Bellatrix got sexual gratification from torturing people. How many of her victims begged for mercy, for her to spare the lives of their children?"

"I'm not the one saying it, Jim, the Minister did," Kingsley corrected him. "And he is demanding that you be reprimanded."

"No need," Lillian said casually as he pulled a scroll out of his robes and handed it to Kingsley.

"What's this?"

"My resignation, effective immediately."

"What? This can't be about Driscoll wanting to punish you."

"No, it's just that I'm done with this job," Lillian said as his grin returned to his face. "Being an Auror was just one of my dream jobs. I think I am going to try something else. Maybe play some professional Quidditch.

"Besides, now that the last of the Death Eaters are gone, I can honestly say that I have made the world a safer place."

Lillian disappeared from the lobby with a small pop as he Apparated away.

"Damn it, he was one of the best Aurors I ever met," Kingsley said remorsefully. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Minerva."

"It is alright, Kingsley," she replied. "Kingsley, you said he was the best. How well do you know him?"

"Well, we never went to the pub or anything, but he was very good at hunting Dark Wizards, one of the best even," he replied. "He was excellent at capturing them and would only use deadly force if someone was in danger or there was no other option. Of course, he didn't like to follow rules very much. He would say that they tended to 'bog' him down. Too bad. Well, if you will excuse me, I will have to file this," he said as he gestured to the scroll in his hand.

"Kingsley, I wasn't paying close attention at the time, so I didn't hear if Longbottom's or Lovegood's names were read off, but I know Ron's wasn't. Why was Ronald Weasley's name not mentioned when Malfoy's victims were read off?" Minerva asked.

The Auror hesitated to answer.

"Minerva, he didn't do it," Kingsley said softly. "He didn't kill any of the three."

"What?" Minerva practical screeched.

"Malfoy said under Veritaserum that he had heard of the plan to attack Hogwarts, and being the coward that he was, he ran. He wasn't even in Great Britain during the Final Battle."

"He did what?" Minerva said flabbergasted.

"He hid in a château in a small village north of Dijon, France," Kingsley stated. "He, Crabbe, and Goyle killed an entire family of Muggles that lived there except for the 14 year old daughter. Malfoy kept himself amused by 'using' the poor girl while keeping her under using the Imperius curse."

Minerva blanched at the Auror's implication.

"Until Bellatrix found him, that is," Kingsley shook his head somberly. "He then tortured the girl to death while his aunt… watched."

"But that cannot be…. Draco had to be at Hogwarts… it doesn't make sense," Minerva said disbelievingly. "Hermione saw Draco pushing Ron off of the tower."

"Minerva, do you recall what Hermione had said occurred, when she was questioned that day in the Headmaster's office? She stated that she was disarmed and her wand was thrown off of the tower after Ron fell?" Kingsley asked her, to which Minerva nodded. "Well, you might remember I found her wand under Ron's body. That could only mean that her wand had to have been thrown before Ron was pushed off, not after. At the time, I thought it was shock that tainted her testimony. Eyewitness accounts tend to be completely rubbish during highly traumatic situations. But, because of Malfoy's unimpeachable testimony, Hermione's account of what happened is bollocks."

Minerva was about to interject when Kingsley held up his hand to silence her.

"The facts state that Hermione was disarmed before Ron was killed," he continued. "Also, I find it hard to believe that Draco Malfoy could have been in a physical fight with Ron and disarm Hermione before she could react. Not with her skill and experience. Besides which, she never explained what did Harry do up on the roof, did she? Between the two of them, both experienced fighters, they should have been able to have prevented Malfoy from beating Ron and magically disarming Hermione at the same time.

"Something else happened up on that tower, and Hermione is the only one still alive who knows and she has yet to tell us the truth."

"But Hermione would not lie to me about that. I know her, Kingsley. She just wouldn't."

"But, there is a difference between lying and not knowing that you are lying," Kingsley said. "I agree that Hermione would not knowingly lie to us, especially about this. My theory is that someone used a Memory Charm on her and adjusted her memory."

"Whatever for?"

"I don't know," Kingsley replied. "What I do know is that someone is hiding something; something important enough to risk discovery by using a Memory Charm on Hermione. Hermione must have known it, or witnessed it, whatever 'it' was, forcing someone to use the charm on her."

Minerva's mind was racing. Could Hermione have had her memory changed? And if so, why? What did she see that day? Who did it to her? Then a named popped into her head, the one person that only Hermione had memories of: Jim Lillian.

"Kingsley, what you've said does make sense, and I have to agree with you," Minerva began in a hushed tone. "It is reasonable to assume that Miss Granger has indeed had her memory adjusted, and not just pertaining to the truth about what exactly happened on the Astronomy Tower. Hermione also has memories of a fellow student at Hogwarts, but one who no one else, faculty or student, can recall. And I have a suspicion that this mystery man is most likely the person who put a Memory Charm on Hermione."

"Who is it, Minerva?" Kingsley asked.

"You will not like this, Kingsley," Minerva said, "but it is Jim Lillian."

To Be Continued

* * *

**Author Notes:** The only Weasley grandchild named "Giselle" is a blatant tip of the hat to BJH's "A Fairy Tale Ending." One of the best fanfics out there, I would highly suggest that you read it.

Thanks again to my betas sasqch and Penelope78


	5. Part Five

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Five: Ginny's Tale**

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths, Violence and Adult themes.

Part Five Summary: Ginny deals with the aftermath of the Final Battle

* * *

19th December, 2004

Ginny apparated into a secluded alley near Hermione's flat in Muggle Edinburgh. She checked to make sure she was wearing her Muggle clothing properly: a pink polka -dot skirt, plaid sweater, a baby-blue trench coat, and a large lime-green foam hat before walking to her best-friend's home away from school.

As Ginny trudged up the stairs to Hermione's flat, she heard the distinct sound of a woman giggling. It must have been coming from another flat because Hermione was anything but a "giggler." Then the oddest thing happened as Ginny knocked on her friend's door: the giggling abruptly stopped. A scant second later, she heard a soft "pop."

'Was that someone Apparating? And was it coming from Hermione's flat?' Ginny thought as Hermione answered the door and greeted the redhead. Ginny noticed that her friend's checks were flushed, and Hermione's mouth was twitching as if she were fighting a smile.

"Did someone just Apparate?" Ginny asked.

"Hello to you, too," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Sorry, hi," Ginny waved theatrically. "But was that someone Apparating?"

Hermione ushered her friend into the flat. She walked ahead of Ginny to the dining table in her bare feet with her pumps in her hand. Ginny casually noted that her friend's hair was even bushier than normal and that Hermione had a light bounce to her walk.

"Ginny, we're in a Muggle town; it could have been a car backfiring," Hermione explained. An image of a car spitting fire out of its tail pipe filled Ginny's mind. She would never understand Muggles and their devices.

"So, where are we going today?" Hermione asked as she slipped on her shoes.

"I was thinking Diagon Alley?"

"Good, I haven't been there since the summer." Hermione stood and walked next to her friend as they both put on their robes. With two loud pops, the pair disappeared.

After several hours of shopping, most of it spent in Flourish & Blotts, Ginny finally dragged Hermione over to Quality Quidditch Supplies. When the pair entered the store, Hermione predictably headed straight for the book section of the store, while Ginny browsed the broom care section.

As Ginny shopped for polish for her broom, she felt a small hand tug at her robes. She looked down and saw a young boy no older than ten staring at her with wide eyes.

"Excuse me, ma'am, are you Ginny Weasley?" the boy asked politely.

"Yes, I am," Ginny responded.

"Could you sign this for me?" he asked and handed Ginny a pre-inked quill and a battered and worn Play Roster for the 2004 British Quidditch Team. Ginny smiled and flipped the book open to her "Stats and Bio" page. Ginny signed her name on the bottom corner of her picture that showed her scoring a particularly difficult goal.

"Is Team Britain gonna make it to the World Cup Finals this year, Ms. Weasley?" the boy asked as she handed back his book. "I heard the team is looking for a new Seeker 'cause Sass finally retired."

"Yeah, Sass retired after Germany beat us out of the finals," Ginny confirmed.

"Good, he was rubbish as a Seeker."

Ginny wrinkled her nose and nodded at the boy's comment.

"Yes, he was, wasn't he?" Ginny said in a whisper. "But don't tell anyone I said that."

"Have they found a replacement yet?"

"Oh, yes," Ginny said with a bright smile. "And he's brilliant."

"Who is he?"

"An amateur, you wouldn't have heard of him."

"Yes ma'am," the boy smiled. "Is it true that you replaced Harold Potter as Seeker when you were at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I did," Ginny replied.

"Could you sign it 'Harold Potter's friend' or something like that?" the boy asked as he handed her the book again. Ginny frowned slightly and shook her head.

"Oh, okay," he said with a sheepish grin, "thank you for the autograph."

The young boy turned and walked away.

"Do you get that a lot?" Hermione asked from behind Ginny.

"Not too much anymore," Ginny said. "Although they used to ask for my autograph because I was Harry's friend, not a 'Star Quidditch' player."

"Has that happened in a while?"

"Not for about a year or two," Ginny replied. "How about you? When was the last time someone asked for 'Harold' Potter's girlfriend to autograph something?"

"Eighteen months and six days," Hermione said. "And it has been twenty-two months and seventeen days since I was asked by any paper for an interview."

"You actually keep count?"

"It's the way my mind works," Hermione said in a mater-of-fact tone

The two witches paid for their purchases and headed back to The Leaky Cauldron.

"So, Hermione, what's got you all happy?" Ginny asked as she sipped on her butterbeer.

"What ever do you mean?" Hermione asked innocently.

"I could have sworn I heard giggling coming from your flat, and you've been practically skipping wherever we go today."

"Giggling? Do you honestly think that I even have the ability to giggle?" Hermione asked, to which Ginny shook her head impishly. "As for being in a good mood, can't a witch be happy to spend the day with her friend? Besides, the last few weeks have been a little rough," Hermione said as the waiter placed two bowls of stew in front of them. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher only lasted two months before quitting, so the rest of the staff had to pick up the slack."

"What happened this time?" the redhead asked.

"Oh, a fourth-year was practicing a switching spell with the DADA Professor. The young girl was going to switch the Professor's wand with a quill, but she did the wand movements wrong and accidentally switched his arms with his legs."

"Ouch!" Ginny said while trying to suppress a giggle.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad. Poppy was able to sort him out in tic," Hermione said. "But this man was such a dandy that he fretted that his robes were ruined and stormed off and left the school in a huff."

"Ponce."

"He was an incompetent moron anyway," Hermione stated flatly. "I think he had taken the job as DADA Professor just for the bragging rights that come along with the position. We go through this every year."

"You're kidding?" Ginny asked. "The 'One-Year Curse' still hasn't been broken?"

"Nope, Hogwarts has had to get a new instructor every year since Quirrell died."

"Well, at least they don't die or end up in St. Mungo's anymore," Ginny chuckled.

Hermione shook her head.

"What?" the redhead asked as her jaw dropped.

"Last year, Minerva had to call in a DADA Professor who had retired over sixty years ago. Unfortunately, the old girl died in her sleep a month before final exams. Then that arse, MacGilacuty, who taught the year before that, was showing the students how to use Summoning and Banishing Charms for defense. The twit summoned a small boulder and forgot to dodge out of the way. Filch spent a week sponging up what was left of him."

Ginny cringed at the mental image that Hermione painted.

"The year before that the Professor had an accident with a pack of grindylows…"

"Okay, that's enough. I get the picture," Ginny said.

"So, what did you get Archie for Christmas?" Hermione asked, changing the subject.

"Well, I got him some _Little Wizards and Witches Quidditch_ supplies," Ginny told Hermione of the gifts she got her boyfriend. "A coach's whistle, playbooks, and some protective pads."

Ginny met Archie Grant almost two years previously when Team Britain was doing a promotional tour. Archie was the coach for his daughter's _Little Quidditch Team_, and Ginny posed with him and his team for photos for the _Daily Prophet_ Sports page. They had bonded almost instantly.

Besides their love of Quidditch, they had both been affected deeply by the war. Archie knew that Ginny's brother was murdered and that Ginny herself had been tortured. Nearly everyone knew; it was in the papers for weeks after the final battle. Archie had lost his wife to a random Death Eater attack shortly before the end of the second war and had been raising his only daughter by himself ever since.

"Oh, please," Hermione chastised her friend. "You just got him Quidditch supplies? Then why did you spend so much time in Madam Malkin's lingerie section?"

Ginny blushed furiously.

"Let, me guess; a Red Teddy?" Hermione jokingly prodded. Ginny buried her face in her hands. "No? Okay, a black lace bustier?"

"And matching g-string," Ginny mumbled through her hands.

"Oh, you are a wicked witch," Hermione nearly giggled, but bit her lip.

"It's just he's a great bloke, and I'm in love him and I want to make him happy," Ginny rambled as she raised her head.

"Yes, he'll be so happy that he won't be able to stand properly."

"That's the plan," Ginny said in a stage whisper.

The pair of witches laughed out loud.

"So, you're in love with him?" Hermione asked, wiping a joyful tear out of her eye.

"Yes. We've even spoken briefly about marriage," the redhead replied with a huge smile. Hermione practically squealed. "He sees me as Ginny the woman, not as the Star Chaser or 'Harold' Potter's friend. I can talk to him about anything…"

Ginny unconsciously ran her fingers through the stark white streak in her hair. The smile disappeared from Hermione's face.

"Have you told him about that day?" Hermione asked and continued in a whisper, "The truth?"

Ginny froze and noticed that her fingers were in the white part of her hair. It was a nervous habit she did whenever she thought of "_that day_," the Final Battle, the day her life changed forever.

"No," she said weakly as her hands dropped to the table. Hermione reached out with both hands and held her friend's hands in a comforting gesture. "It's just I don't want him to think of me differently."

"Ginny, he'll understand. You have to tell him."

"I couldn't stand it if he knew what happened. That I'm a …"

"No," Hermione cut her off before she could finish. Hermione knew what Ginny was about to say because they had had this conversation many times before, and she couldn't bear to hear her friend call herself that again. "No, you are NOT! It had to be done."

Hermione stood up and moved across the table and sat down next to Ginny and hugged her.

"We were at war," Hermione said as she stroked the younger woman's hair. "If anyone should realize the sacrifices that are made in war, it's Archie."

"You're right, I'll tell him…" Ginny said with a genuine smile, "eventually."

"Promise?"

Ginny nodded. Hermione moved back to her side of the table.

"Enough about my love life," Ginny said. "Let's talk about yours."

"Well, that will be a short conversation," Hermione replied with mirth in her voice. "I don't have one."

"That's my point," Ginny said. "I have met this guy, and he is really nice."

"So now you're playing 'little Ms. Matchmaker', are you?"

"Yes," Ginny said. "I met him when he tried out for the British Quidditch Team."

"A blind date?" Hermione asked, as she knitted her brow. "I don't know… What about the press? Don't you think that they would have a field day when they find out that 'Harold' Potter's girlfriend is dating again?"

"You just said that no one has bothered you in nearly two years!" Ginny leaned forward and pleaded with her. "Please, Hermione, I just want to see you happy."

"I don't know, Gin. What if you're wrong and he is chased away by all of the attention?"

"Don't worry about that," Ginny said with a flourish of her hand. "He's the new Seeker and he is ridiculously brave… or stupid. Either way I don't think he will be scared off."

"Wait, he's the new Seeker for Team Britain?" Hermione asked with a confused look.

"Yes, and you will have to agree to the date because he just walked in."

Hermione looked towards the door and saw a man with long auburn hair and glasses.

"This is Jim Lillian," Ginny said as the short man walked up to the table. Ginny turned to Jim and said, "Jim, this is my friend I was telling you about."

"Hello, Herm-own-ninny," Jim said with a handsome smile.

Ginny looked to Hermione who had her eyes narrowed and staring daggers at Jim.

"Actually, it's 'Her-my-oh-nee,' Jim," Ginny quickly corrected him, noticing Hermione's icy glare.

"Hermione, forgive me please. _Mea Culpa_," Jim said as he took Hermione's hand and kissed it.

"Did you plan this?" Hermione asked not taking her eyes off of Jim.

"Of course I planned this," Ginny replied taken back at Hermione's uncharacteristically stupid question. "I met Jim when he got the Seeker position. He's a nice enough bloke. Give him a chance. Please 'Mione, for me?"

After a moment where Hermione seemed to size Jim up while he gave the brunette witch a mischievous smile, Hermione said, "Alright, for you Ginny."

"Good, I leave you two at it, then." Ginny cheered and stood up. "Have fun!"

"What? Now?" Hermione stammered.

"No better time than the present." Ginny turned to Jim, "Now take good care of her or you'll have to answer to me. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am!" Jim said with a small salute.

Ginny kissed Hermione on the check and left the Leaky Cauldron. She smiled as she walked out of the pub, hoping that her two friends would hit it off.

* * *

9th August, 2005

The crowd was deafening. Ginny could barely hear Lee Jordan's play-by-play.

"This is just brutal! Weasley is the only Chaser left on the British team. Smith and Dilts are still unconscious after the New Zealand Beaters knocked them off of their brooms."

Ginny deftly threw the Quaffle past the Keeper to score another goal for Britain. The crowd erupted in cheers.

"WAY TO GO GINNY!" Lee's voice boomed. Ginny could have sworn she heard her brothers, Fred and George, shouting; "That's our baby sister!"

"Weasley scores another ten points of Britain!" Lee boomed. "Bringing the score to 210 to 130, New Zealand."

The Kiwi Keeper passed the ball to one of his Chasers. The Chaser rocketed down the field as Ginny shot after him. Within seconds, she had caught up to her opponent and stripped him of the Quaffle. Ginny flew as fast as she could back to the other end of the field.

"It looks like the Kiwi Chaser, Wasserman, is gaining on Weasley," Lee's voice echoed through the stadium. Wasserman was known as a thug in the game; he enjoyed knocking opponents off of their brooms while hopefully breaking as many bones as possible. Ginny knew that if Wasserman caught up with her, the game would be all but over.

"Wait! What's this?" Lee shouted. "The British Seeker, Lillian, has spotted the snitch! He's gone into a steep dive towards the pitch! Graf, the Kiwi Seeker is at the other goal post, he'll never get there in time!

"Laurent, Beater for New Zealand, bats the Bludger towards Lillian!"

Ginny was almost knocked out of the air as a Lillian-shaped blur shot by her. As she passed through Jim's wake, Ginny heard a sickening crack behind her.

"OH, MERLIN!" Lee screamed. "Lillian tricked Laurent into hitting his own teammate! Wasserman is down!"

The "Lillian Feint," a maneuver developed by Ginny and Jim, worked exactly as planned. Jim fooled the Kiwi Beater into aiming for him, but Jim had timed it just right so the Bludger would strike the Kiwi Chaser.

Ginny saw her chance. The Kiwi Keeper was staring dumbly at his fallen teammate and not paying attention to the red-haired witch. She hurled the Quaffle to the left goal post.

"WAY TO GO GINNY! The score is now 210 to 140, New Zealand!" Lee bellowed. "That gives Weasley an incredible SEVEN solo goals and four assists!"

Ginny flew up to Jim as the referee retrieved the Quaffle.

"That was perfect, Jim!" Ginny thumped him on his back as she tried to catch her breath. "But find that damned snitch. I can't keep this up…"

Ginny could not finish her sentence because Jim charged over her shoulder. A second later the entire crowd drew a collective gasp.

"I am so glad that boy is on my team." Ginny muttered to herself without turning around.

"LILLIAN DID IT! HE CAUGHT THE SNITCH! BRITAIN WINS 290 TO 210! BRITAIN WINS THE WORLD CUP!" 

XX 

The party started shortly after Ginny, her friends, and her family arrived at The Leaky Cauldron. After the twins playfully pranked Tom, the barkeep, three times, they were asked to leave. The Weasleys and assorted guests made their way to the flat above Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

The twins had exhausted their supply of Filibuster Fireworks, among other nefarious products, in the first hour of the party. Catherine Wheels spun around the room being chased by fiery-multi-colored pigs. To add to the chaos of the flying fireworks, every quarter hour or so, people were turning into giant canaries at random.

"Congratulations, Gin!" a more than mildly inebriated Hermione shouted as she flung herself around the redhead's neck. "You did a superb job, if I must say."

"You must," Ginny replied. Even though Ginny had drunk more Firewhisky than her bookish friend, Ginny could hold her liquor better.

"That was the best World Cup game I have ever seen!" Hermione slurred slightly.

"Hermione, you've only seen two World Cups," Ginny informed her.

"Well then, that other one I saw was the second best," Hermione started to laugh hysterically at her own "joke" when Jim walked up to the two witches.

"Hey there, you," Hermione guffawed. "What are you up to?"

"Just checking on my two favorite ladies," Jim said as he took a sip from his glass of pumpkin juice.

"You're not drinking tonight?" Ginny asked.

"No, I don't drink," Jim answered.

"He's an old stick in the mud," Hermione said jokingly as she attempted to swat his shoulder and missed, causing her to fall into his arms.

"I think I better take you home, Hermione," Jim said as he cradled her.

"Now, you aren't going to take advantage of my best friend in her current state, are you?" Ginny said with a wicked smirk.

"Oh, he would never do that," Hermione tittered. "Not without my permission, isn't that right… er…Jim."

Hermione held her hand in front of her mouth in a vain attempt to stop her belly laugh.

"Jim, I almost called you the other name," Hermione snorted as tears of laughter rolled down her checks.

"Then I definitely think I should take you back to your place," Jim stated.

"Are you going to use the floo?" Ginny asked.

"No, the Knight Bus," Jim replied as he set his drink down.

"I hate the Knight Bus, loathe it really," Hermione slurred.

"Yes, but if you apparate, you'll splinch yourself," Jim said as he led Hermione to the door. "And you'll get sick all over every fireplace from here to Edinburgh if we floo."

"Goodnight you two," Ginny waved as they left.

A few minutes later, Ginny's brother Bill staggered over clutching a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky.

"You were fantastic," Bill said as he hugged his sister. "Bloody fantastic, I tell you! Seven goals, all by yourself! Ron would have been thrilled!"

Ginny smiled politely to Bill.

"I tell you, you would have heard his voice over everyone!" Ginny quickly paled at her brother's statement. "He would have been shouting 'Go on Ginny! Go on and score another one!'"

Ginny found it very hard to breathe suddenly as her complexion turned a sickly green.

"It's not fair you know," Bill continued, oblivious to Ginny's discomfort. "He should be here. But some wanker tossed him off…"

Bill stopped as he attempted to compose himself.

"I tell you if I had the chance to get my hands on Malfoy… that bastard killed my brother!" Bill said thickly. "If anyone hurt one of my brothers, I'd kill 'em, you too Gin…" Her family's voices suddenly became too loud, as if they were yelling in her ear.

"I'd kill 'em for you, too," Bill concluded.

Ginny felt the room shrink and the walls close in on her. There wasn't enough air in the room anymore; she had to get out, to breathe.

"I have to go," Ginny said trying to swallow the bile that threatened to escape her throat. Bill drunkenly muttered something like, "You do that Ginny."

Within seconds, Ginny burst out of the flat and ran to the street below. She fell to her hands and knees and vomited.

Ginny did not know how long she remained there in the street, staring dumbly at her pool of sick. She took a few fortifying breaths and stood up.

'I have to get out of here,' Ginny thought to herself. 'I have to go home.'

She looked down at her trembling hands and realized that she could not apparate for fear of splinching herself. And the Knight Bus was out of the question; she did not want to be confined in that damned bus with Merlin knows how many people.

'I need Hermione,' Ginny thought as her feet began to move under their volition. 'She could help me.' An image of Hermione from earlier that evening playfully trying to smack Jim on his arm entered Ginny's mind. 'I can't bring her down, not when she's the happiest I've seen her since Harry died.'

Ginny broke out of her reverie realizing that she had entered the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was almost deserted save for a few people here and there. Ginny slinked across the wall, trying not to draw anyone's attention to her, when she spotted him sitting in one of the booths reading a book.

Ginny could recognize him anywhere; his hair had finally turned completely gray, and his robes were still tattered and worn.

"Re-Remus?" Ginny sputtered as she found herself standing next to her former Professor. Remus looked up from his book and was shocked at Ginny's appearance.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Remus asked as he stood and held her shoulders.

"Remus, I need to talk to someone," she said in a barely audible whisper. "And I don't want to depress Hermione. She's the only one who knows what really happened."

"What is it, Ginny? What happened?"

"Please, Remus, you're the only person I know who would understand. But you can't tell anyone about it."

"I promise, Ginny, I won't tell anybody!'

A few minutes later, Ginny and Remus were in a private room above the pub. Remus sat across from her waiting patiently as she filled her teacup.

"Madame Pomfrey had just kicked us out of the Hospital ward, all of us except for Hermione," Ginny began. "When Hermione sets her mind to something, nothing will make her change it. The look she gave Poppy when she tried to usher her out…"

Ginny snorted slightly.

"I have been on the receiving end of that 'look' once or twice," Remus chuckled softly.

"Well, Neville, Ron, and I went back up to the common room. Ron went to bed, while Neville and I stayed up to talk," Ginny continued. "You see we weren't dating really, but we did do a lot of things together, talking mostly. Dean Thomas had just broken up with me a few months before, and I was still really torn up. Neville spent weeks trying to cheer me up a bit, and I found out that he was a nice bloke. But we weren't dating. Anyway, that night we talked for hours and hours, about this and that, nothing important.

"Ron would come down every couple of hours to go check on Harry, and he would glare at us. I thought that he didn't like Neville sitting so close to me. But around one or two in the morning we said goodnight. Neville was a complete gentleman and walked me to the stairs.

"I should have kissed him then. He was so patient with me, waiting for me to be 'over' Dean before asking me out officially. I should have kissed him that night, at least then he would have been kissed once before dying."

Ginny took a sip of her tea.

"I'm sorry, I'm babbling," Ginny said uneasily. "I'm nervous and a little drunk."

"It is quite alright," Remus said with compassion. "I have all the time you need."

"I had planned on sleeping in the next morning, but I woke up real early, I don't know why. I just got up for some reason. I walked down to the common room and saw Harry's wand just lying on one of the tables. I thought that was odd, he never left his wand lying around. To my knowledge, he even slept with it under his pillow. I picked it up, intent on giving it back to Harry. That's when I heard his voice.

"He said, '_Put it down, Ginny_.' His voice sounded really gruff and gravelly, like he hadn't been to bed yet, and I couldn't recognize it. I looked around, and I couldn't see anything. So I asked who was there. He just said '_Go on, Ginny… put it down._' I looked in the direction from where the voice was coming. I saw half of a wand floating in the air, as if the other half was invisible. I stared at it for a second, my brain not believing what I was seeing.

"He then cast the Cruciatus on me."

Ginny screwed her eyes shut as her mind was flooded with images of that day.

_Ginny saw them head up to the Tower, she had to help them, had to warn them. She tried to climb the stairs after them, but her legs weren't working right just yet. She clawed and pulled her way up the cold stone steps._

"Ginny, do you need a minute?" Remus asked.

"No, thank you," Ginny replied, trying to compose herself. "It hurt so much. I'd read about the affects of the Cruciatus Curse in books, but none of it prepared me. It felt like my muscles were snapping, and my bones were being crushed."

Remus put a comforting hand on top of hers.

_The only light in the dark and dank stairwell came from the cracks around the door at the top. Ginny forced herself up another step. She could hear yelling from the Observation Deck. She was too late; she wasn't able to warn them in time._

"He lifted the curse, and I could hear Neville come running down the stairs from the boy's dormitory. Neville must've heard me screaming. He ran to my side and reached down to check on me. That's when the bastard hit him with the Killing Curse. Neville was a nice bloke, a good man. He would always help his friends, no matter what the cost. And that bastard just killed him as if he was just an obstacle, something to be shoved aside.

"I saw Neville's face when his body hit the floor. He looked so scared. He deserved better! He deserved a chance!" Ginny was sobbing freely. "I should have kissed him goodnight…

"I tried to crawl away and noticed that I was still clutching Harry's wand and that blood was coming from my mouth. Then I heard his voice again. '_You should have listened to me, Ginny. No one ever listens to me!_' Then he muttered something I couldn't hear. All of the sudden, Harry's wand started to shred right in my hands. I looked down at the splinters of his wand and this tiny voice in my head said, 'that's funny, where's the wand's core?' I got tortured, Neville got murdered, and I stop and wonder why the core to Harry's wand was missing."

_Her hand fumbled with the doorknob, with a click the door swung open._

"…_I LOST MY ENTIRE FAMILY!" someone shouted._

Ginny's eyes shot open.

"I looked up and saw a hand floating, holding the wand …I had seen that hand so many times before. When I was just a kid and I would fall down that hand would help me up…"

Realization dawned upon Remus' face.

"Oh, no," he muttered.

"I pleaded with him to stop." Ginny tore at the white stripe in her hair violently with her fingernails. Remus gently pulled her hand away from her hair. "I could feel his eyes on me, weighing his options on what to do with me; kill me or let me go. He then cast the Cruciatus again."

"Ginny, it wasn't him," Remus said and embraced the young witch. "It had to have been the Imperius Curse. He wasn't in control of himself. Someone else made him do it."

Ginny sobbed and clutched onto her former professor.

"Why couldn't it have been that way?"

* * *

11th August, 2005

Ginny sat at a small table in Madam Puddifoot's watching her friend wrestle with her bushy hair to no avail. Hermione's hair was the wildest Ginny had seen it in a while. After a few futile attempts at tying her hair in a bun, Hermione gave up with a sigh. Ginny smirked at Hermione's discomfort.

"Not all of us are blessed with manageable hair," Hermione huffed, a rosy bloom in her cheeks. "I hate this mop."

"I happen to love your hair, Hermione," Ginny said.

Hermione shot the redhead a disbelieving look and took a sip of her coffee. Ginny nervously fidgeted with her cup.

"I told him, I finally told Archie," Ginny said softly.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked as she leaned forward.

"It was… wonderful," Ginny said with a genuine smile. "I cried, and then he cried. We just sat there all night, holding each other and talking."

Hermione smiled and held Ginny's hand.

"Um, Hermione…" Ginny said hesitantly. "Um, I also, I…. ItoldRemusaboutittoo," she finished hurriedly.

"Okay," Hermione said simply.

"'Okay'?" Ginny was shocked. "I tell Remus Lupin, without your permission, the secret that we've held for over six years and all you can say is, 'Okay'?"

"Was he able to help you?" Hermione asked.

"Yes."

"Then it's okay."

"You're not bothered by it?" Ginny asked sheepishly.

"Of course not," Hermione said, squeezing Ginny's hand. "Remus is trustworthy; he won't tell anyone. Now if you told Colin Creevey I would be upset."

Both witches laughed at the thought of confiding anything with either Creevey brother.

"So, Miss Star Quidditch Player, now that you won the World Cup, what are you going to do now?" Hermione asked.

"I am going to retire," Ginny said.

"Really?"

"Yes, I want to go out on top, you know. Not wait until my career starts to lag."

"So, what are you going to do then?'

Ginny chuckled slightly.

"I haven't got a clue." Ginny shook her head.

"Would you mind a suggestion?" Hermione asked with a devilish grin. "Madam Hooch is finally retiring, and Hogwarts needs a new flight instructor."

"But I didn't graduate from Hogwarts," Ginny said with a frown. "I couldn't go back for my final year. It was too soon. McGonagall would never hire me."

"You got nine O.W.L.S in your fifth year, and you finished your N.E.W.T.S independently, so you cannot use 'I didn't graduate from Hogwarts' as an excuse," Hermione lectured as she pulled two rolls of parchment out of her robes and handed them to Ginny. "You are wonderful with children, and you're an expert on all things Quidditch."

Ginny unrolled the parchments and read through them quickly. The first was an application form for the position of Flight Instructor. The second roll was a very lengthy letter of recommendation from Hermione.

"You knew I was retiring?" Ginny asked as she held up the letter.

"Yes, Jim told me." Hermione practically started glowing at his name. Ginny narrowed her eyes. Ginny recalled Hermione's appearance from earlier--she was almost skipping during their shopping trip, and she was constantly trying to hide a goofy grin.

"I think you would be perfect for the job," Hermione continued. "Besides, I would like the chance to work with my best friend."

Hermione's mussed up hair, the glow in her cheeks, it all made sense to Ginny.

"I am the best match maker ever!" Ginny concluded aloud. "You've been shagged!"

"Ginny!" Hermione hissed as she attempted to hide her face behind her hands.

"You've been shagged rotten!"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Yes, I do. And I do a lot more with my mouth than that. And you know it. How do you know it?" Ginny said wagging a finger at her. "Because I share the details of my love life with you, my best friend. Now it's time to return the favor. I want details, all of the juicy messy details." Ginny playfully slapped her hand on the table.

A rascally smile crept across the brunette's face.

"Okay, where should I start?" Hermione asked.

"Measurements! Temporal and physical…"

TBC

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas sasqch and Penelope78 


	6. Part Six

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Six: Minerva's Tale**

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Six Summary: After a row with the Minister of Magic and his lackey Under-Secretary (Percy, of course), McGonagall gets the surprise of her life: Jim Lillian applying for the Defense Against the Darks Arts Position.

21st February, 2005

"Thank you for your time, Auror Tonks," Professor Granger said with a smile.

"You're welcome, Herm… Professor," Tonks corrected herself and the class chuckled. A very pregnant Nymphadora Tonks-Weasley had just finished telling the students that charms could be used in everything from tracking a suspect to subduing a Dark Wizard. Tonks waddled back to her seat.

Minerva sat in the very back row of the classroom, watching and waiting. She had suggested to Hermione a "Career Day" for her N.E.W.T. level Charm class: a day when Ministry personnel could come into the class and discuss with the class the practical uses of charms in their jobs. Hermione embraced the idea with a fervor that only she could possess.

"And now, students we have Madame Patricia Stalk, a Ministry Obliviator," Hermione said as a squat woman with pearl-white hair walked to the front of the classroom.

Minerva leaned forward in her chair. This is what she had wished for when she suggested this "Career Day." Minerva had waited months for certain questions to be answered, and if she knew Hermione, the young woman would ask them for her.

"Thank you for coming, Madame Stalk," Hermione greeted the witch. "Would you please tell the class what charms you use in your job?"

"I work as an Obliviator," Stalk answered cheerily. "I adjust people's memories, mostly Muggles, mind you. If someone sees something that they weren't supposed to see, such as a wizard flying on a broom, I cast a few charms and alter their memories."

"Are there any side effects in adjusting one's memories?" Hermione asked.

"If the adjustment was being done by someone who was trained properly, not many. Sometimes, if the memories that we are trying to alter are extensive, then the Muggle may become somewhat disoriented for a period of time"

"You've said 'mostly Muggles,' have you ever had to adjust a witch or wizard?" Hermione asked.

'_That's my girl,_' Minerva thought to herself.

"Not myself, no," Stalk said. "It's very difficult to modify a magical person's memory properly. That is to say, wizards can have their memories wiped, or removed, just as easily as a Muggle, but to alter or adjust an existing memory is much harder. We magical folk tend to have a natural defense against such Memory charms. You see, only very powerful and skilled witches and wizards can adjust memories on non Muggles. Even then there will be noticeable side effects, such as a short attention span when the person was previously bright and attentive, or mood swings when he was even-tempered, and so on."

"Is there a test to check to see if a witch or wizard has had his or her memories adjusted?" Hermione asked. Minerva could have sworn that Hermione cast her gaze briefly in her direction.

Suddenly Minerva realized that Hermione had most likely discovered her plan to see if the younger witch had been hit with a Memory Charm.

"Oh, yes, a very simple charm, in fact." Stalk pulled out her wand and gestured to Hermione. "May I?"

"Of course you may."

"Now this charm will make your aura visible for a few seconds. If the aura is blue, then you would never have had your memory adjusted. If it's red," the squat witch chuckled, "well then you saw, heard, or knew of something that someone didn't want you to know."

Stalk waved her wand in front of Hermione while muttering an incantation and suddenly a blue haze covered the young woman.

"Well, I guess that proves that I have not had my memory adjusted, now doesn't it?" Hermione said while looking directly at Minerva. "Does anyone have any questions for Madame Stalk?"

A dozen hands rose as Minerva slipped out of the classroom and headed to her office.

Minerva paced back and forth in her office. Her lips worked themselves into a thin line. Her mind was lost in thought.

She was lying; Hermione Granger was knowingly lying to her. Minerva's plan to inconspicuously test Hermione to see if she had had her memory adjusted proved it.

A burst of green flames erupted from the fireplace, and Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped out.

"Did it work, Minerva?" he asked in his deep voice.

"Yes and no," Minerva replied, still pacing. "Hermione has never had her memory adjusted. And she definitely knows that I suspect something."

"Well that makes two of them. I am positive that Lillian knows that I have been trying to follow him," Kingsley said grimly. "It's nearly impossible for me to shadow Lillian. I have tried to follow him these past few months, and he continually throws me off of his tracks with ease. Six weeks ago, I placed a Tracking Charm on him, and he somehow removed it and put it on a stray dog. Last week he put a Glamour Charm on at least six people to make them look like him, all at the same time.

"The Ministry has refused my request for funding and support again," Kingsley said angrily. "My superiors keep telling me they have no interest in finding Ron's, Luna's, or Neville's murderer. As far as they see it, a Death Eater did it, even if it wasn't Malfoy. And since all of the Death Eaters are now gone, why bother? As to Lillian's mysterious past, the Ministry has detailed records of Jim Lillian; copies of his first Hogwarts letter, school records, Auror training, and all the rest. They don't care that the Muggle authorities have no record of Lillian or his family."

"So we are still on our own," Minerva said. "And, now, our only two leads are aware of our suspicions of them, forcing us to back off."

"I do have some useful information about Lillian. But it's not good," Kingsley said frowning. "He apparently is in a relationship."

"And?" Minerva asked, knowing she would not like the answer.

"He is currently dating Hermione Granger."

Minerva cursed. Not only was Hermione lying about Ron's death, she was obviously working with Lillian and helping him keep his secrets. And whatever his secrets might be, he had one of the smartest people that Minerva had ever met at his side.

This could be bad, very bad indeed.

* * *

13th August, 2005

She rubbed her temples with her fingers, trying to subdue the migraine that was developing.

"Really, Minerva, you're being unreasonable," Minister Driscoll drawled out. "I think it is high time to erect a fitting tribute to Harold Potter on the school grounds."

Driscoll gestured for his Under-Secretary, Percy Weasley, to show Minerva the prototype. Weasley placed a small statue in front of Minerva. Percy motioned to the statue theatrically, and Minerva glanced at it quickly. It was the typical "heroic" depiction of The-Boy-Who-Lived, with broad muscular shoulders, long flowing hair and the overly-large scar that practically bisected his face.

She leveled her cold stare at the former Head Boy. Weasley slowly stepped back until he was half-hiding behind the Minister.

"I do believe that it is you, Minister, who is being unreasonable," Minerva said, not taking her eyes off of Weasley. "You barge into my office without an appointment and demand that I allow you to place that…." she pointed a contemptuous finger at the statue, "that _thing_ on the school grounds; a proposal that has come to my attention many times before. I will tell you what I have said each time before. No! I will not allow you to erect that hideous thing here."

"I will not sit here and let you insult Harold Potter's memory like this," the Minister thundered and stood boldly.

"'_Insult Potter's memory_'?" Minerva mocked. "You did not even know Harry Potter, but I did. He was one of my favorite students as were his parents. While he was alive, he despised all the stares, all the attention he got, just because he was 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. Harry wanted nothing more than to lead a normal and peaceful life. He would have been offended by all of this ridiculous attention and hero worship! Every statue, monument, and painting you make of Potter infuriates me, because Harry would have hated it. How dare you say that I insult his memory when all you and the Ministry are able to do is generate the insult?"

Driscoll took an uneasy step backwards.

"Minerva, please…" the Minister began.

"I already have an appointment currently scheduled for an interview for the Flight Instructor, and the applicant will be here at any moment," Minerva cut him off. "If you would be so kind as to leave and don't let the door…"

A knock at the door interrupted her.

"Yes?" Minerva asked.

The door opened slightly and the bushy brown mane of Hermione Granger appeared.

"Pardon me, Headmistress, are we interrupting?" Hermione asked.

"No, not at all. My guests were just leaving," Minerva said coldly. "Come in and bring your… friend."

Hermione had told her the day before that she had found the perfect person for the job of Flight Instructor. Minerva expected to see the enigma that is Jim Lillian to follow her in, but was surprised to see Ginny Weasley walk in, followed by Remus Lupin. Remus closed the door behind him.

"I hope you don't mind, Minerva, but Ginny invited me," Remus said with a warm smile. "For support."

"Of course not, do come in," Minerva said.

"Ah, Professor Granger, maybe you can talk some sense into…" the Minister began.

"What is that?" Hermione asked with an icy tone while pointing at the statue on Minerva's desk.

"That is a prototype of the statue we would like to erect on the school grounds," Percy informed Hermione as she pushed past the Minister. Hermione picked up the garish thing to inspect it from a closer vantage. "I figured that Harold would have appreciated a tribute here at Hogwarts."

A glint of green light caught Minerva's eye. Her desk lamp's flame was reflecting off of a small emerald set in a simple band around Hermione's left ring finger. Minerva suppressed a gasp as Hermione set the statue down. Minerva was stunned. She recognized the ring as the one Hermione had shown her years ago, the ring that Harry had planned on giving the young woman as an engagement ring. But Hermione no longer wore it on a chain as was her habit; it now resided upon her ring finger.

"I do not believe _Harry_ would have appreciated it," Hermione corrected Percy.

"But Hermione, I believe…" Percy began.

"Percy Weasley, I could not care less what you believe," Hermione spat.

Remus began walking towards the desk to look at the statue for himself when he inadvertently brushed up against Percy. Percy almost cried out as he recoiled at the werewolf's touch.

"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, I am harmless," Remus said patronizingly. "It's not that time of the month."

"Well it's that time of month for me, you snot!" Ginny shouted and began jabbing her forefinger into her brother's chest.

"How dare you do that to Harry's memory!" Ginny berated him. Percy was taken back at how much Ginny reminded him of their mother when she was on the warpath. "He was like a brother to us. Harry was part of the family, for Merlin's sake!"

Ginny paused for a breath intending to chew out her brother some more when the Minister spoke up.

"Lillian?" Driscoll was looking in the opposite corner of the office. "Is that you?"

Minerva followed the Minister's eyes and saw a form standing in the shadows. The form took a step into the light.

"I didn't hear you come in," the Minister stated.

"Neither did I," Minerva glared at the short man. She had only seen Lillian once before, but she felt as if she could recognize him anywhere.

"Jim, old boy!" Percy called out as he rubbed his chest where his sister had poked him. "Tell them what you think about this…"

Percy pumped Lillian's gloved hand as he led him to Minerva's desk while explaining the situation about the statue.

As Lillian scrutinized the small statue, Minerva studied him. His shaded glasses hid his eyes and his dark auburn hair was tied into a ponytail. Something about the man seemed familiar. Was it the way the way tiny lines formed on his smooth brow as he looked at the offending figure in his hands? Or was it his seemingly bizarre habit of wearing fingerless Seeker gloves? She did not know what made him familiar, but Minerva was certain that she had never seen him before that day of the executions.

"It's nice," Lillian said.

"It's _what_?" Hermione nearly screeched.

"I like it," Lillian said. "When are you going to commission one for Neville?"

"Excuse me?" Percy asked.

"Neville Longbottom," Lillian gestured with the statue. "He sacrificed as much, if not more, than Harry did. I think he deserves a statue, too. One made out of gold perhaps?"

"Harold Potter died trying to save the world," Percy said indignantly.

"Whereas Neville died trying to save your sister," Lillian said as he shoved the statue roughly into Percy's hands. "I suggest as you two _leave_," Lillian put an extra emphasis on the word 'leave', "that you look at the bronze plaque at the entrance to the Great Hall. It lists all of the names of the people who died during the Final Battle. I think that Harry would have appreciated that more than any statue. Good day."

With that, Remus ushered the two men out of the office. Ginny still stood in the spot where she chastised her brother with her balled fists shaking. The redhead was muttering under her breath something like, "that smarmy, ungrateful git" and "teach him a lesson."

"Ginny, don't you have something to ask the Headmistress?" Hermione asked as she took a seat. Minerva watched as Lillian walked over to Hermione and took his place behind her. Hermione leaned slightly into Lillian as he put a gentle on her shoulder. The pair's body language told her that they were very comfortable around each other, as if they had known each other for years.

"What? Oh, yes," Ginny said as she snapped out of her tirade. She turned bright red and fumbled through the pockets of her robes as she spoke to McGonagall. "Um, Professor, I mean, Headmistress… I know I didn't finish my schooling here at Hogwarts, but I heard about Hooch, that is, Madam Hooch retiring and…" Ginny finally pulled a roll of parchment out of her robes and with a shaky hand, gave it to the Headmistress. "Well, here is my application and a letter of recommendation from Hermione. I think I would do a good job."

"I don't need to see those, Ginny," Minerva said waving away the parchment. "You have the position, welcome back to Hogwarts."

Ginny squealed like a schoolgirl and tackled Hermione in a hug. Remus shook Ginny's hand and offered his congratulations.

Minerva's smile disappeared from her face. She turned her attention to the short man standing behind Hermione.

"And why, pray tell, are you here, Mr. Lillian?" Minerva asked sternly.

"I am here to apply for the Dark Arts position," he replied simply.

"And what are you going to do next year then?" Ginny asked with a giggle. "That is, if you survive?"

"Do you mind?" Remus interjected. "Not every teacher who held that position died."

"You're one of the rare few, Remus," Ginny chuckled. Lillian pulled out several rolls of parchment from his robes.

"And I take it that you also have a letter of recommendation from Professor Granger as well?" Minerva asked, ignoring the interchange between the red-haired witch and the werewolf.

"Among others," Lillian said as he walked up to her desk and set the rolls down. "She is my fiancée after all."

Another squeal echoed off of the walls as Ginny enveloped Hermione in an even tighter hug.

"I AM the best matchmaker, ever!" Ginny yelled.

Ginny grabbed Hermione's left hand and examined the green emerald.

"Congratulations, Hermione," Minerva said without emotion.

"Headmistress, you have to see the ring," Ginny squealed. "It's beautiful!"

"I have seen it already," Minerva said, shooting an icy glare at Hermione. "Some time ago."

"Congratulations, Hermione," Remus said and kissed her on the cheek. "And congratulations to the Matchmaker as well. When did you introduce these two?"

"Oh, about nine months ago," Ginny blushed furiously at Remus' praise. "I just knew they would hit it off when they met."

"Nine months?" Minerva interrupted. "Then I am glad that I am not the only one to whom Hermione has been lying."

"Excuse me?" Ginny said angrily. "What makes you think Hermione lied to me?"

"Because seven years ago, Hermione told me about him," Minerva spat and pointed a finger at Lillian, "and about how she was concerned that he would not receive his certificate papers."

"You went to Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, turning towards Lillian. "What year were you in?"

"He was in the same year as Hermione," Minerva answered. The Headmistress leaned down and unlocked a drawer in her desk. She pulled several rolls of parchment from the drawer and tossed them on her desk, knocking Lillian's application to the floor. "According to school records, he was in Huffelpuff."

"Wait, I thought I knew everyone in Hufflepuff…" Ginny looked at Lillian in disbelief. "I don't remember you."

"Tell me, Remus, do you remember this man from the year you taught here?" Minerva demanded.

"Well, to be honest, most of my attention was focused on Harry and his friends that year," Remus answered as he scrutinized Lillian. "I'm sorry I don't remember you, Mr. Lillian"

"Don't worry, Remus, I do not recall him either," Minerva glowered at the bespectacled man. "Mr. Lillian, I remember every one of my students, not just their names, but their features, their grades, and their particular fields of specialty. But I do not remember you at all. In fact, the only person who does remember you from school is your fiancée.

"I recall the first time she mentioned you to me; it was a few days after the final battle. I could not understand why I had no recollection of you, nor why no one else did for that matter," Minerva paced behind her desk. "Then, last year when Draco Malfoy was executed, I discovered that Hermione was also lying about what happened on the Astronomy Tower." Ginny paled and Hermione squeezed her hand. "Then a most disturbing thought occurred to me. 'If Hermione lied about Malfoy killing Ron, then what else could she be lying about?'

"I cannot help but come to the conclusion that these two lies are connected and that you, Mr. Lillian are the crux of the issue!"

"Minerva, I know what happened that night on the Astronomy Tower; Ginny told me," Remus said.

"Yes, Hermione lied to protect me and my family, Professor," Ginny meekly said.

"I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mr. Lillian had nothing to do with what happened that night or with Hermione lying," Remus stated.

"Actually, Moony," Lillian interjected, "I am the person who told Hermione to lie. It was my idea to say that Malfoy was the one to kill Ron."

"What?" Remus said, looking utterly shocked and confused.

"No, you couldn't have… you weren't even there…" Ginny said, on the verge of panic. The red-haired witch was about to take a step towards Lillian to confront him when Hermione restrained her.

"It's okay, Ginny," Hermione said soothingly.

"And did you tell her to lie about meeting you during school?" Minerva demanded.

"Technically, Minerva, I did not lie when I said that I met Jim when I went to visit Harry in the hospital ward," Hermione stated.

"Then why does no one else remember him?"

"Because Jim Lillian never spent a day in Hogwarts," Lillian said simply.

Minerva blinked, taken back at Lillian's bizarre third-person confession.

"You see, Professor, I did attend this fine school, but I have changed a lot these past seven years," Lillian said as he walked towards the elderly witch. Lillian removed the glove from his right hand as he bent over to pick up his resume from the floor. As he placed the scroll back on Minerva's desk, she noticed that he had a bizarre scar on the back of his hand. It almost looked like joined letters, as if someone had carved a sentence in his flesh. Minerva now realized the reason this man wore gloves constantly -- it was to cover this bizarre scar.

"It's no wonder you don't remember me. I've changed my voice, the way I walk, my name, even my appearance," Lillian continued. "But the one thing I could never change are my eyes. Even if I could change them, I wouldn't. Because I got them from my mum, and I reckon if I had gotten to know her, I would have made a fine 'mother's boy'."

Lillian stood right in front of Minerva and slowly removed his shaded glasses. Minerva stared directly into Jim Lillian's almond shaped, emerald green eyes, eyes that brought a flood of memories to Minerva's mind.

It was so long ago that Minerva first saw those eyes on the auburn-haired Muggle born witch who was sorted into Gryffindor. Years later, that same witch proudly showed Minerva her only son, a son that had inherited his mother's brilliant green eyes. Minerva remembered the same boy's eyes when he too was sorted into Gryffindor.

"Harry?"

TBC

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to my betas sasqch and Penelope78 


	7. Part Seven

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Seven: Harry's Tale **

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Seven Summary: The truth about what happened on the Astronomy Tower is revealed.

* * *

June 5th, 1998 early morning (_the day of the Final Battle_):

The first thing most people noticed about Harry when they would first meet him was his scar: a jagged lightning-bolt shaped scar right on his forehead that had been with him for all of his life. His aunt and uncle told him that he got it in the car crash where his parents died. When Harry turned eleven and was introduced into the Wizarding world, he discovered that he had actually received the scar when the most feared wizard of the time had attempted to kill him.

From that point on, the scar brought him notoriety, fame, and infamy as The-Boy-Who-Lived. At first, Harry was amused by the novelty of the attention, but he quickly learned to detest it. All the staring, pointing, and hushed whispers soon drove the young boy to distraction.

Then there was the "connection" that was a part of his scar. Harry would sometimes get visions from Voldemort, painful visions where the Dark Lord would torture or murder some poor soul. Harry would also feel a sharp, sometimes blinding, pain originating from his scar whenever Voldemort was near him or feeling particularly angry. Harry had recently mastered Occlumency to block out these visions and to help dull the pain.

Normally, Harry only felt sharp pain in relation with his scar.

On this particular day, for some reason, was different.

It was a slight pressure, as if an invisible finger from inside his skull was pushing on his scar. It was strong enough that it woke him from his sleep.

The pressure grew slightly, almost negligibly, when Dumbledore told Harry and Hermione about Voldemort's hidden spy and how Snape had died trying to discover the spy's identity.

Again, the pressure grew a little more when McGonagall levitated his two friends, Neville and Ginny, into the Hospital Ward. But Harry did not notice at that time the increased pressure due to his concern over his friends' conditions.

When Dumbledore told Harry of his fear that this was a sign that The Dark Lord was going to attack, Harry became aware that the pressure in his scar had grown significantly and felt like it had two invisible fingers pushing down on it.

The sensation became a dull ache as he and Hermione raced towards the stairs leading up to the Astronomy Tower. But Harry paid the twinge no heed. His best friend, his first friend, was up on the Astronomy Tower alone and needed to be warned of the immediate threat.

Then Harry heard something faint behind them as they reached the stairwell; the sound of something being dragged along the cold stone floor.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry's hand held Hermione's shoulder. "Something's wrong…"

Hermione was about to ask him what was wrong when a loud crash echoed through the hall.

"What was that?" Hermione asked. Harry read the Marauder's Map. He quickly found the two tiny dots with his and Hermione's names, but a few feet away he saw a slowly moving dot marked "Ginny Weasley" headed in their direction.

"Bollocks!" Harry cursed. "It's Ginny! How did she get away from Pomfrey?"

Hermione pulled away from Harry and started to head up the stairs.

"Harry, you go and make sure Ginny is okay. I'll get Ron," Hermione shouted. For a brief second Harry and Hermione's eyes locked.

It was near the end of his sixth year, after Harry had mastered his Occlumency, that he had also picked up a bit of Legilimency. Under Dumbledore's tutelage, Harry had learned the obscure skill fairly quickly. Because of his training, he could read people's emotions when he looked in their eyes. He could tell if someone was sad, happy, truthful or even lying. When he looked in Hermione's eyes as she ran up the stairs, he read her fear and anxiety.

Then Harry remembered that Ron had not made eye contact with him in nearly a year. A stray thought entered Harry's mind; was Ron hiding something? The pressure in his scar increased.

"Oh, no," Harry muttered. "Hermione, wait!" he shouted after her, but she continued to run up the stairs. Harry bolted after her.

He was a few steps behind Hermione when she burst through the door.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you?" Harry could hear Hermione shout. Just as Harry ran though the open door, he heard a voice shout out, "_EXPELLIARMUS!_"

With a bang, Hermione was thrown backwards as her wand flew from her hand. Harry caught his girlfriend before she could hit the floor.

Harry quickly scanned the rooftop, looking for their attacker. At first, he saw no one. Then, he saw two disembodied feet on the floor, a pair of rather large feet. Harry raised his eyes up and saw two hands floating in the air. Hermione's wand was gripped in the left hand, while the right hand held… Ron's wand.

A bodiless voice cackled as Hermione's wand was casually tossed over the tower's edge. Hermione cried out in horror as she saw her wand fall out of sight.

"_ACCIO_ _MARAUDERS' MAP_!" the voice yelled, and the magical map flew from Harry's hand. The floating left hand deftly snatched the map from the air.

"Never know when this might come in handy," the voice, which sounded all too familiar, said as the hand and map disappeared under an invisibility cloak.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked to Harry.

"Aren't you supposed to be the cleverest witch in our generation?" the voice said from thin air. "I'm very disappointed in you, Hermione."

"R... Ron?" Hermione stuttered.

"And here I thought you would have caught on when I stole Harry's wand from under your nose," Ron said smugly.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

"This morning, when I delivered that box of Chocolate Frogs," Ron said. "You mean to say you didn't see me do it? Oh, this is rich!"

"Ron, what did you do?" Harry demanded.

"What I had to," Ron's voice hissed. "Of course Ginny and Neville almost ended up ruining everything…"

"Oh, god no," Hermione said softly as she started to cry. "Please Ron, fight it! Harry can throw off the Imperius, maybe you can, too. Please fight it."

A low, mean chuckle filtered through the air.

"Take it off, Ron," Harry firmly said. "Take off my invisibility cloak."

Slowly Ron pulled the cloak off, revealing his red hair and freckled face.

Harry locked eyes with his best friend and saw anger, jealously, and greed in him. But Harry did not sense any outside or alien influence; no one was manipulating Ron.

"Oh, no," Harry said dejectedly.

"That's right, Harry, it's just me in here," Ron said wickedly as he tapped the side of his head with his finger.

It all started to make sense to Harry now. Why Ron would never look at him over the past year. Harry had thought it was because the two were growing apart, like Hermione had said. But now, Harry realized that it was because Ron was hiding something. Something terrible.

"You've been planning this for months," Harry said dejectedly.

"Yeah, a few weeks before term stared," Ron said. "I had to approach that ferret, Malfoy. I told him I had some information his master wanted. Told him it was about the prophesy."

Harry caught an image, a memory, from Ron's eyes. In the vision, Ron knelt before Voldemort and kissed the hem of The Dark Lord's robes. Harry felt Ron's fear and trepidation as his lips touched the fabric.

"Why did you do it, Ron? Why?" Hermione asked, fighting the tears that streamed down her face.

"Why?" Ron sneered at Hermione. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be me? Do you?

"Since the day I was born, I have had to live in someone else's shadow. Five older brothers, all of them better than me. All of them accomplished something noteworthy before I even had a chance. Two Head Boys, a Quidditch captain, and two world-famous pranksters. Hell, even the birth of the first Weasley girl in generations made Ginny better than me."

"Don't tell me that's why you used the Cruciatus Curse on her?" Harry demanded with bile burning his throat.

"No, she was supposed to stay in her damned room," Ron said as he leveled his wand at the raven-haired man. Harry flinched as another of Ron's memories entered his mind. Harry saw Ginny writhing on the floor, screaming in pain. He felt Ron had focused on his sister's vibrant red hair and his hatred of that hair, his family's hair. Hatred that was aimed towards Ron, himself. Oddly Harry felt Ron's self-loathing, his wish and desire to punish himself, fuel the Unforgivable Curse.

"I told her to leave, but she wouldn't listen to me," Ron continued. "No one ever listens to me."

"Is that why you betrayed Harry? Because you wanted to be more '_noteworthy_' than your siblings?" Hermione said venomously.

"Not entirely," Ron said. "The only chance I had of distinguishing myself was shattered when he became my friend. Now, not only was I just another Weasley, but I was The-Boy-Who-Lived's sidekick."

"Ron, you were never my sidekick!" Harry shouted.

"You have no idea what it's like to be me, living in your damned shadow," Ron's eyes bulged with anger. "For the past seven years, whenever I met someone the first thing they would ask me is what you were really like. Even when my family went to Egypt and the _Prophet_ wrote up an article on us, they had to mention that I went to school with the _Great Harry Potter_, didn't they?"

"I never asked for that, Ron," Harry hissed.

"But you got it! You get everything!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"I had nothing; no money, no fame, nothing. I grew up in a hovel with an overbearing mother and six siblings to compete against. You had everything handed to you from when you were just a baby; money, power, fame and any girl you could want."

"I got that crap when my parents were murdered. I LOST MY ENTIRE FAMILY! AND ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT IS MONEY AND FAME?" Harry shouted. He found himself trying to move towards Ron, to hit him, to make him bleed. But Hermione held Harry back. "I lived in a cupboard for ten years!"

"Oh, poor Harry-kins, what a rough life you had," Ron mocked him. "And when poor misunderstood little Harry turned eleven he found out he was rich and one of the most famous people in the world. Must have been tough, that one."

"I would have given you anything, just to live your life for one day," Harry said dejectedly.

"Would you have given her to me?" Ron said and he pointed his wand at Hermione.

"What?" Harry said bewilderedly

"You knew I fancied her," Ron hissed, "and you still took her away from me."

"Harry and I didn't start dating until after you and Luna became a couple," Hermione said.

"Oh, please, I may be slow but I am not stupid," Ron shouted "I've seen the way the two of you have been acting around each other for years. How, whenever Harry needed something, you would drop everything to help him. You dropped your vacation to go skiing in our fifth year just because Harry was in a sour mood. I saw how Harry would stand so close to you and how he would lean into you whenever you two would work on a project together.

"I had to give up on Hermione, you…" Ron pointed his wand menacingly at Harry, "you took my chance away. I had to settle for Loony Luna."

Again, Harry locked eyes with his former friend and Harry received another disturbing image from Ron's mind. Luna's body lay motionless and battered deep in the Forbidden Forest.

"My god, Ron, what did you do to Luna?" Harry asked.

"I had to practice the Unforgivable Curses on someone, didn't I?" Ron snickered. "And let's be honest, who's going to miss the loony chit? Hell, all I had to do was use the Imperius and make her write a simple letter claiming that her idiot father took her along on another of those asinine journeys searching for a stupid non-existent animal. It was so easy, and it allowed me so much practice. Maybe I should show how adept I am on Hermione?"

"If you hurt her, I'll…" Harry began to say as he tried to shield Hermione from Ron.

"You'll do what? You'll curse me?" Ron interrupted while laughing manically. "I'd like to see that considering I'm the only one here with a wand.

"You just told me that you would give me anything, right? But you couldn't give me fame or power now could you?" Ron said. "But he can; my Master can and will."

"You betrayed us for fame?" Hermione asked with tears in her eyes.

"I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, will be known throughout history as The Dark Lord's greatest Lieutenant. The one who helped him achieve his destiny.

"I told You-Know-Who about the prophesy, about how Harry is the only one who can stop him. The Dark Lord came up with the plan for me to destroy your wand," Ron chuckled. "That part of the plan is done. Now all I have to do is signal him, and it will be the end for you, Potter."

Ron pointed his wand to the sky and shouted, "_MORSMORDRE_!" A giant green skull with a snake protruding from its mouth erupted from Ron's wand and hovered a dozen feet about the Tower.

"Fame? Is that why you did it? For Fame?" a voice said thickly from behind Harry and Hermione. They turned to see Ginny's hunched-over form limp towards them.

"Ginny?" Ron gasped, shocked at the damage he had done to his sister.

"You murdered Neville and t-t-tor…" Ginny found that she could not bring herself to say that word. "Why you hurt me…for fame?"

Suddenly, Harry felt as if his scar was being pushed in the direction of the front gates. He looked towards the gates with a sense of foreboding. Someone was coming.

Dozens of pops echoed through the school grounds. Harry saw scores of black-robed figures appear just outside the entrance to the school. The gates swung open and a tall and skinny form walked in.

The castle began to shake and tremble.

"My Master is here," Ron said proudly.

Harry looked at Hermione and said to Ron, without bothering to look at him:

"Ron, take me to him."

"What?" Ron asked in annoyed tone.

"Take me to Voldemort." Ron shuddered as Harry said the dreaded name.

"Harry, no!" Hermione pleaded with him.

"Take me to Voldemort. Hand deliver me," Harry stared at the man who used to be his best friend. "I'm sure that would get you some more brownie-points."

"What's the catch?" Ron eyed Harry suspiciously.

"The girls go free," Harry said. "You let them escape."

"Harry, no, I won't leave you!" Hermione begged.

"Screw this; even in defeat you can't help from being fucking noble!" Ron yelled with fire in his eyes. "So bloody righteous all the time! Just once I'd like to see you cower!"

An evil smirk played across Ron's face as he pointed his wand at Harry's chest.

"My Master said not to kill you; he didn't say anything about roughing you up a bit. It looks like I will finally get see you cower. Don't worry, Harry," Ron said evilly. "This will hurt you more then it does me."

Harry saw the rage and hatred build up behind his friend's eyes. Harry caught glimpses from Ron's mind of Ginny and Luna being tortured under the Cruciatus.

"_CRU_-!" Harry braced himself as Ron shouted the curse. Time seemed to slow to an agonizingly slow pace for Harry as he saw Ginny launch herself at her brother, interrupting Ron's curse. The smaller girl attacked Ron, beating her fists into his face and chest.

"How could you!" she was screaming at Ron, "To Neville! To Harry! TO ME!"

Ginny continued to pummel her brother in her blind rage. The force of her blows drove him backwards, towards the edge of the roof.

"Ginny, look out!" Harry called out, trying to warn her.

The back of Ron's legs hit the low wall surrounding the roof and he pitched backwards. Ron's hands flayed, and he let go of Harry's Invisibility Cloak. Harry saw out of the corner of his eye his Cloak get picked up by a gust of wind and fly towards the Forbidden Forest. Ron's wand was flung out of his hand and fell hundreds of feet to the earth as he franticly swung his hands around, trying to find something to stop him from falling.

His hands found Ginny.

Ron desperately latched onto his sister's robes, but Ron was much larger than Ginny and started to drag her over the edge as well. Harry lunged at the two siblings and grabbed Ginny around the shoulders. He instinctively grabbed Ron's hand that was holding onto Ginny. Harry saw a look of absolute loathing mar Ron's face as Harry's hand grabbed his. Ron tore his hand from Harry's grip in a fit of rage.

Harry and Ginny watched in horror as Ron tumbled down the facade of the Tower. Ron's fingernails tore off and his fingers snapped as he clawed at the stonework, helplessly trying to stop his fall. His body made a disgusting cracking noises every time he hit an outcropping. Halfway through his fall, Ron's screams ceased. But Harry could still see the dreadful expression on his former friend's face. After what felt like hours for Harry and Ginny, Ron hit a low roof and his lifeless body rolled off of the roof and landed on the grassy earth like a boneless sack of meat.

Harry stared at the limp form, hundreds of feet below, wishing for it to move. Wishing that Ron would stand up and tell him it was just some stupid practical joke. That he would be okay.

But deep in Harry's heart, he knew that would never happen. Ron had betrayed him and sold his soul to the devil, tortured Ginny and murdered their friends.

"Goodbye, Ron," Harry said sadly as tears fell from his eyes.

"He's dead; I killed him," Ginny moaned.

Harry pulled Ginny into a standing position. Hermione stood next to them with her trembling hands in front of her face, tears staining her cheeks.

"I killed him, I killed Ron," Ginny cried.

"No, you didn't," Harry said as he held her. "The Ron that was your brother, the Ron we knew, that we loved, died when he made that deal with Voldemort. The thing that did that to us, to you, deserved to be punished."

"But this'll kill Mum," Ginny groaned into Harry's chest.

Harry thought of Mrs. Weasley's reaction to her son's betrayal and death. He imagined her screaming and crying, and her self-recriminations, wondering what it was that she had done that made Ron do such evil things.

Then Harry imagined the Weasley family; a family that Harry loved, being torn apart not only by their grief and ill-placed guilt, but also by the media and society. The Weasley clan would be forever known as the family that bred a traitor.

"No one has to know," Harry said after some thought. "We'll say Draco did it."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked through her tears.

"We'll say that Harry and I found Draco fighting with Ron; that Draco pushed Ron off of the Tower," Hermione said, picking up on Harry's concept. "And that you were not up here; you were not a witness to the event."

"We'll also say that Malfoy confessed to being the spy and that he was Neville's killer as well as the person who used the Cruciatus Curse on you," Harry finished.

"Do you think anyone will believe it?" Ginny moaned.

"Everyone already knows Malfoy is an evil git," Hermione said as she rubbed Ginny's back comfortingly. "Earlier today, Professor Dumbledore confirmed that Malfoy took Voldemort's Dark Mark."

"Come on, we have to get out of here," Harry said as he guided Ginny and Hermione toward the stairway.

Harry felt an odd tugging sensation on his scar as the trio made their way down the stairs.

"We can't be of any use to Dumbledore or the other professors; none of us has our wands," Hermione stated. It seemed to Harry that Hermione had slipped into her "lecture" mode as a way for her to cope with her grief and shock. "We would be more of a hindrance than a help. I think we should go to Sinestra's office, since it's the nearest one, and use its fireplace to floo to the Ministry."

As they approached Sinestra's office, Hermione said, "I hope the door isn't locked."

"We're due for a spot of luck, I reckon," Harry said hopefully as he reached for the doorknob. Before his hand touched the cold metal, a barely audible click sounded from the latch. He paused for a moment to consider the sound before he twisted the knob and pushed the door open.

Apparently they where due for some luck, not only was the door unlocked, but the fire still burned in the fireplace.

"You go first," Harry said to Hermione. "I'll follow you with Ginny; I'm afraid she isn't able to state the destination properly in her condition."

The brunette witch walked over to the hearth and reached into a small pot on the mantle. Hermione took a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire. The fire rapidly turned green. She took another pinch of the powder and stepped into the green flames.

Harry felt another strange tug on his scar as he prepared himself to follow his girlfriend.

"Ministry of Magic!" Hermione said in a loud and clear voice, as she closed her eyes.

Nothing happened. She opened her eyes to see a puzzled look on Harry and Ginny's faces.

"St. Mungo's!" Hermione practically shouted, and yet she still remained in Sinestra's office.

"The Burrow!" Hermione said desperately as she threw another pinch of floo into the fire.

"It's not working?" Ginny said disbelievingly. "Why isn't it working?"

"Dammit! They must have blocked the floo network somehow!" Hermione stated as she stepped out of the magical fire. "The Death Eaters probably did it to stop anyone from fetching reinforcements."

"What are we going to do?" Ginny begged.

Hermione furrowed her brow and chewed on her lower lip, obviously contemplation their options. Harry paced in front of the fireplace, trying to think of a safe and secure place within the castle.

"How about we go to the Headmaster's office," Harry said.

"Harry, that will be one of the first places they will look," Hermione sounded out.

"Yeah, but it should take them a long time to get through the security measures," Harry told her. "Hopefully long enough for reinforcements to get here."

"But what if Professor McGonagall didn't get to the Ministry before they cut off the floo?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, do you have a better plan?"

"The Room of Requirement. I doubt that Ron told Voldemort or his henchmen about it," Hermione stated. "Besides, we can just ask the Room to provide a secure area in which no one who wants to harm us can get in."

"Brilliant!" Harry said. "Hopefully we won't run into any Death Eaters on the way."

The trio made their way down the stairs as Harry felt his scar being pulled in the direction of the main doors of the school an instant before a large explosion rocked the castle.

"Oh, gods, they're in the castle," Ginny said ominously.

Harry and Hermione sped up while carrying a hobbling Ginny. Harry could hear dozens of curses and hexes being thrown in the distance with screams following shortly there after. The curses died down and Harry felt another tug on his scar, stronger than before.

The entire castle trembled again and Harry's scar prickled.

"Voldemort just walked in," Harry warned the two women.

The three moved down another flight of stairs when they heard the taunts echoing throughout the castle's corridors.

"Come out, boy!"

"Don't make us hunt you down; you'll only make it worse!"

"You don't want us to take out our frustration on your Mudblood."

Harry slowed a pace.

"Ignore them, Harry," Hermione implored. "Keep moving."

Harry began to move when he sensed, rather than heard, Voldemort shout an order.

"Spread out, search the castle, but leave Potter to me!" Voldemort hissed. "Kill everyone else!"

Harry's scar was tugged roughly towards the direction where he sensed Voldemort.

Harry stopped moving as realization set in. His scar was guiding him toward Voldemort, toward his destiny. It was happening. The thing that the prophesy predicted a year before his birth. The thing he had trained for the past two years to face. It was happening _now_.

"It's time," Harry said simply. The rough tugging stopped and was replaced by a gentle push, as if destiny was guiding him.

Hermione turned to see why Harry had stopped. She paled as she saw the look of determination on his face.

"No Harry, please no…" Hermione begged.

Harry could hear a number of footsteps coming from in front of them.

"Take Ginny and get to the Room of Requirement," Harry said, trying his best to ignore Hermione's pleas. "I'll create a distraction."

"No, Harry, they will capture you and take you to Voldemort," Hermione said as tears fell down her face. "They'll kill you; you don't even have a wand."

"I have to do this Hermione. I'm the only one who can stop him," Harry said looking into her eyes. "Besides, I'll find Dumbledore. He'll protect me until I get to Riddle. You know they are all afraid of the old man; the Death Eaters will drop like flies with Dumbledore around. I'm sure I can get a wand off of some unconscious Death Eater."

Harry remembered all the times he had looked into her eyes in the past. How they always showed concern, compassion, and loyalty. And how, over the past year, they showed loved.

Harry cupped Hermione's face in his hands and stared deep into her eyes. In that moment, nothing else existed, no Death Eaters, no Voldemort, just the two of them.

"It's time, Hermione. I need to do this," Harry said as he brushed a tear away from her cheek.

"Then let me be with you," Hermione pleaded.

"You will be with me always," he replied as he laid her hands on his chest, just over his heart, "in here. But I need for you to be safe; I cannot do this if you are not safe."

Harry leaned close to Hermione's face, his breath danced across her lips. Harry hesitated before kissing her.

"I love you, Hermione." Hermione gasped slightly as Harry uttered those words for the first time. Harry kissed her.

He poured everything he had into that one kiss, as if it were the first, and last, kiss he would ever have. He let go of his fear, doubt, and uncertainty. He gave her all of his happiness, hope, and love. Hermione returned the kiss with all of her being, all of her love.

The two broke the kiss as another explosion rocked the foundation of the castle. They could hear Death Eaters moving closer as the fiends continued taunting and threatening them.

Hermione sputtered as she tried to tell Harry the most important thing in the world. A few simple words that he never let her say to him.

Harry saw a group of over ten Death Eaters when he bolted around a corner.

"Hey, you prats!" Harry shouted while he waved his hands franticly. "Over here!"

An onslaught of curses erupted from the Death Eaters wands as Harry ducked and weaved deftly out of harm's way. The raven-haired man ran full-tilt down the hall.

"After him!" a masked Death Eater shouted, and the group charged after the retreating teen.

Back where he left the two women, Hermione finally forced herself to say the words.

"I love you, Harry."

Harry looked over his shoulder as he raced down the corridor. All of the Death Eaters were in pursuit. The Death Eaters had left Ginny and Hermione alone and chased after him; Harry's plan had worked.

Harry turned a corner as a bright yellow curse ripped by his ear, missing him by inches. Several more curses flew by him as he raced up a flight of stairs.

"Come back here, Potter. You have nowhere to run!" a voice that Harry recognized as belonging to Lucius Malfoy shouted. "We have dozens of Death Eaters throughout the castle. There is no escape!"

Harry ignored Malfoy as he ran up another set of stairs and then another. He found himself somewhere on the third floor with his lungs burning and a stitch in his side. Harry realized that he would not be able to run from them for much longer.

An orange bolt rocketed by Harry's shoulder and hit a nearby suit of armor, crushing it. Harry cringed as he thought of what would have happened if he had been hit with that disturbing orange crushing hex.

As Harry dashed around the corner, he saw a man in periwinkle blue robes standing at the end of the corridor.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry shouted.

"Harry, get behind me," the ancient wizard commanded. Harry ran past Dumbledore and dove behind a large statue of some anonymous historic wizard.

The Death Eaters froze monetarily as they saw Dumbledore standing in front of them. A large Death Eater whipped his wand at the old Headmaster, and a blue bolt erupted from the tip. The remaining villains took this as their cue to launch a barrage of their own curses. Dumbledore began to wave his wand in an intricate pattern as the curses sailed toward him.

An enormous explosion rattled the stonework of the castle, and Harry covered his ears in a vain attempt to block out the thunderous sound. In an instant it was all over.

As Harry surveyed what was left of the battle from behind the statue, he noticed at least three Death Eaters were down; one had his arms tied in a painful-looking knot around his legs. While another seemed to have had his entire body glued to the ceiling. And the third Death Eater appeared to have had his head magically swapped with his left foot. The remaining seven must have ducked for cover, obviously terrified of Dumbledore.

"Harry, we must get you to safety," Dumbledore said as he turned to Harry.

"But, Professor, I have to…" Harry was about to tell Dumbledore about how he thought it was time to face his destiny, when he saw a small dark blot on the Professor's robes. The blot was on Dumbledore's right side of his chest and it was growing rapidly. "Professor?"

Dumbledore followed Harry's eyes and put his hand on the spot. When the Headmaster pulled his hand away for his robes, he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

"Oh, my…" Dumbledore said with a little surprise and began to pitch forward.

TBC


	8. Part Eight

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Eight: Harry's Tale **

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Eight Summary: Harry and Dumbledore are trapped in a corner by a group of Death Eaters. Harry has an epiphany regarding the prophesy.

* * *

June 5th, 1998 (the day of the Final Battle):

Harry watched in horror as the Headmaster crumpled to the floor. Harry dashed forward and grabbed his mentor by the shoulders and dragged him to safety behind the statue. He absently noted how dragging Dumbledore's body was very similar to the time Harry was a young boy and his Aunt Petunia forced him to drag a bag that was twice as large as he was, full of dried leaves and twigs across the yard.

"I think I got him," Harry heard one of the Death Eaters say as he propped the Headmaster behind the statue.

"Fine then, you stick your head out and if the old man doesn't blow it off, we'll believe you," hissed back another Death Eater.

Harry looked on helplessly as the dark stain on Dumbledore's robes grew. He saw Dumbledore's face become white as a ghost.

"P-Professor…" Harry mumbled. "Please, Professor, don't die."

Harry jumped up as Dumbledore coughed.

"I don't plan on dying just yet, Harry." A tiny smile appeared on the old man's face. Dumbledore then coughed up a bit of blood.

"Sir, I have to get you to the hospital ward," Harry said as he quickly glanced around the statue and noticed that the Death Eaters were still hiding.

"No, Harry, I will be fine," Dumbledore replied and put a blood covered hand on Harry's arm. "We need to get you out of here. You need to get to safety."

Dumbledore raised his hand and a flash of fire illuminated the corridor. Harry felt something land on his shoulder and saw the beautiful phoenix, Fawkes. In an instant, he felt all the fear that had been plaguing him disappear. Fawkes could bypass the anti apparation wards in Hogwarts and teleport. The phoenix could transport everyone out of the castle. Harry, the Professor, and the girls could escape and be safe.

But then, Harry felt another slight nudge on his scar.

"I can't leave, Professor," Harry said and looked into Dumbledore's eyes. "It's time. The prophesy needs to be fulfilled today, one way or the other."

Dumbledore saw the finality in Harry's eyes.

"I had hoped for more time," Dumbledore said sadly, "I had plans that needed to be finalized."

Harry noticed for the first time that Dumbledore's wand had been broken in the short battle.

"Professor, I don't have a wand, it was destroyed." Harry said. "I can't get past the Death Eaters or face Voldemort without my wand."

"It was destroyed by the spy?"

"Yes, by…" Harry attempted to say his friend's name but found that his mouth had gone dry and a single tear fell from his eye.

"I am truly sorry, Harry," the Headmaster said as he, too, began to cry softly. "Jealously can make people do rash and terrible things."

Harry wiped the tear away from his face. There was no time for this. If he made it through the day, he would cry for Ron and their lost friendship.

"I can't face Voldemort without a wand," Harry repeated. "And I don't think he would be cordial enough to lend me one."

"Seeing as how you and Voldemort had brother wands that would cancel each other out, I had believed for some time that Tom would want to separate you from your wand and leave you defenseless. That is why I took a rather desperate measure," Dumbledore said as he pulled a bent and broken red feather from his robes.

The feather felt oddly familiar to Harry, as if he was connected to it.

"That's the core to my wand?" Harry said with wide, disbelieving eyes. "That's my core?"

"Yes and no," Dumbledore said. "Yes, it is the core to your wand. But it is not _your_ core.

"Centuries ago, wands were used only by weaker wizards, ones who needed the wand in order to perform the simplest of spells. A stronger wizard would need one only to perform the more difficult spells. Witches and wizards would use their wands to help themselves tap into their own magical cores to perform these spells. But over time, we became too dependent upon our crutches. We found ourselves tapping into the core of our wands to perform all magic instead of the other way around. Soon, even the most elementary of spells could not be preformed without the use of a wand."

"If the old muggle lover wasn't hurt, he would have attack us by now," Harry heard Lucius Malfoy say from behind his own hiding spot with the other Death Eaters. "Montague, McWilliams, go and get the boy."

"But a few of us over the centuries have shown an aptitude for 'wand-less' magic," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the Death Eater. "You are one of those people, Harry."

"Why do I have to do it? Make one of the new recruits do it," one of the Death Eaters complained.

"If you don't do it, I'll kill you myself!" Malfoy hissed.

"But, sir, I can't do wand-less magic," Harry said, "not consciously."

"Harry, I removed your wand's core last school year, during the Halloween Ball; remember that time you let me hold your wand for you?" Dumbledore said with a triumphant smile. "You have been doing very advanced spell work, including a magnificent Patronus, with just a simple stick for over a year and a half now."

Harry recalled all of the spells, curses, and hexes that he had performed over nineteen months. All of the N. E. W. T.-level Charms, Transfigurations, and Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons he had taken over the past year and a half. He felt a surge of power course through his body as he realized that he did it without a wand.

Harry's knees shook slightly as he stood up and stepped out from behind the statue.

"It's the boy!" one of the two Death Eaters standing out in the open called out.

Harry raised his hand and pointed his index finger at the Death Eater.

"_Stupefy_!" Harry said and his heart sank as nothing happened.

"You need a wand to be able to do that, boy," the Death Eater mocked. The other five Death Eaters came out from hiding and began to circle Harry.

"You gave us quite a chase, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said.

"I think we should take out our frustration on his hide," the Death Eater whom Harry was pointing at said. "Our Master said not to kill him, but he didn't say the boy needed to be in one piece now did he? Come on Potter, it will be like a little game. Let's see how long you can stand up to the Cruciatus."

'_Remember Harry, the wand would tap into your magical core to perform magic, not the other way around,'_ Dumbledore's voice sounded in Harry's head.

"Just stun him," Malfoy ordered. "I don't want to risk killing him and earning The Master's ire with your little game."

"We might not be permitted to kill the boy," the Death Eater who Harry was pointing at said. "But the Dark Lord said nothing about the blood-traitors and mudblood."

A strange thrumming sensation, very similar to when Harry first held his wand, ran through his body.

"_STUPEFY_!" Harry screamed and a bright red bolt erupted from his empty hand. The bolt slammed into the Death Eater's chest. The unknown man was thrown back violently as if an invisible train hit him square in the chest. His body flew a dozen feet backwards and banged into the stonewall. The Death Eater's body slowly slid down the wall leaving a large bloodstain on the stones.

Harry stared dumbly at his right hand, shocked at what he had done. Not just the fact that he preformed magic consciously without a wand, but at the sheer power that was behind it. The majority of the Death Eaters were doing the same thing. Lucius Malfoy was the first to recover from the shock of seeing Harry cast a powerful stunning spell without a wand; he launched a cutting hex at Harry.

"_PROTEGO_!" Harry shouted a little too late. The majority of the hex was blocked by Harry's shield, but the beginning part of Malfoy's spell was not stopped. A deep gash was cut across Harry's right palm.

Harry shouted out in pain as he gripped his bloodied hand.

"What are you waiting for, fools!" Malfoy shouted. "Get him!"

A tall, thin Death Eater leveled his wand at Harry and shouted, "_CRUCIO_!"

Harry deftly rolled out of the curse's path. He ignored the pain from his hand as he thought to himself that he would not be able to protect the people that he loved if these Death Eaters stopped him. With a wave of his hand, Harry threw a Banishing Charm at the one who had tried to use the Cruciatus on him. The Death Eater flew through the air as if he was a rag doll thrown by a child. His body made a sickening crunching sound as it was flattened against the corridor wall.

A Death Eater leaned out from behind a nearby suit of armor and shot a blue curse at Harry, narrowly missing the young man. Harry remembered his classes on Advanced Transfiguration and one lesson in particular: "Animating the Inanimate". Harry muttered an incantation and animated the suit of armor. With a sound of creaking metal, the suit sprung to life. At Harry's mental command, the suit's gauntlets grabbed the Death Eater's hands and began to squeeze. The Death Eater let out a blood curdling scream as all the bones in his hands were ground into dust. Harry commanded the suit to put the screaming Death Eater into a head lock.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" the fourth Death Eater screamed. Harry's mind raced through his memories trying to think of ways to block the Killing Curse. The only way of stopping that particular curse was to block it with a solid object, much like Dumbledore had done when he fought with Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic, during Harry's fifth year. Harry summoned the closest solid object to block the curse without his mind realizing what that object was. Unfortunately for the fifth Death Eater, that closest solid object was him. The masked villain flew in front of Harry just in time to receive the deadly bolt of green magic. His lifeless body crumpled to the floor in front of Harry.

"Damned fool!" Malfoy spat at the fourth Death Eater. "We cannot kill the boy! The Master has forbidden us."

"But he is kicking our arses!" the fourth Death Eater argued with Malfoy.

With a wave of his hand, Harry ordered the animated suit of armor to charge at the two remaining Death Eaters. With the one Death Eater still tucked under one of its arms, the suit charged at Malfoy and the fourth Death Eater. The fourth Death Eater squealed in shock as a metal arm wrapped around his waist. The suit picked up the Death Eater and continued its charge at Malfoy.

Malfoy leveled his wand at the approaching suit of armor and shouted, "_REDUCTO!_"

The suit of armor was torn to shreds in an explosion that rocked the corridor. Bits of metal shrapnel ripped though the two Death Eaters that had been held by the suit. Their blood coated the walls of the ancient castle.

Malfoy turned and pointed his wand at Harry and bellowed, "_CRUCIO!_"

Harry ducked out of the way, and threw a hex at Malfoy who waved his wand and called out, "_PROTEGO!_" A glowing magical shield appeared before the last Death Eater, and Harry's hex bounced harmlessly off of it.

"I am not some wet behind the ears new recruit, boy," Malfoy said from behind the protection of his shield. "I have been dueling greater wizards than you since before you were ever even pushed out of that mudblood bitch you would have called mother."

Harry gritted his teeth in anger and clenched his fists. His nails dug into the wound on his right palm.

"Shut up!" Harry hissed.

"Is talking about you mother a touchy subject Potter? Or just mudbloods in general?" Malfoy said as the heat and anger rose up in Harry. "You do know that you will lose, don't you? If you are fortunate, The Dark Lord will kill you before we torture your mudblood whore."

'_He's just trying to goad you,_' a voice said in Harry's head. '_Malfoy is trying to get a rise out of you so you can slip up._'

Harry took a deep calming breath while staring into Malfoy's cold, pale eyes. The young man unclenched his fist and felt warm, sticky blood trickle down his fingers. He raised and pointed his bloodied hand at Malfoy.

"I don't know how you are doing magic without a wand boy, but it doesn't matter," Malfoy said smugly from behind his translucent shield. "Only an Unforgivable Curse can break through my shields, and I know for fact from my sister in law, that you can't cast them correctly. You don't have what it takes to do them properly."

Harry remembered that day when he tried, unsuccessfully, to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange. He remembered how she told him he had to enjoy inflicting pain to cast it correctly.

Harry was proud of the fact that he couldn't enjoy the pain of others, that he wasn't some sadistic psycho. And he was going to show this pompous git that he didn't need to be.

"_EXPELLIARMUS!_" Harry shouted with all of his might. A blindingly bright light exploded from Harry's hand and smashed into Malfoy's shield. With a deafening crash, Malfoy's shield shattered and the Disarming Spell hit the Death Eater. Malfoy's wand flew from his hand with a bang while his body was thrown back against the wall where he fell in a heap. Harry casually snatched the Death Eater's wand from the air.

Malfoy groaned as he stood up gingerly. Harry snapped his wand cleanly in two and threw the pieces at Malfoy's feet. Harry saw fear creep into the older wizard's eyes.

"You may, by some miracle, walk away alive today, Potter, but this will not end," Malfoy said with a touch of fear in his voice. "Even if you somehow do defeat The Dark Lord, it won't be over. I've escaped from Azkaban before and I can do it again. Then I'll come for you and your mudblood whore. And I won't be the only one, boy. There are dozens of us. His faithful servants will hunt you down.

"And the only way you can stop us is to become a murderer," Malfoy cackled and gestured to the five dead bodies surrounding them. "These fools' deaths were an accident; I can see it in your eyes that you didn't mean to kill them. And I am positive that you would not kill someone unless you thought it was unavoidable.

"I'll bide my time, wait until you get comfortable, maybe wait until you father some half-bloods of your own," the fear left Malfoy's voice as he stood up to his full height and looked down his nose at Harry. "Then I'll make you watch as I take away your family. I'll start with your youngest and work my way up to the mudblood."

Harry felt bile creep up his throat. Deep down in his heart, Harry knew that what Malfoy was saying was true, not just some idle threat. The other Death Eaters were buffoons who needed to be led by someone smarter and stronger than them. Without guidance, they would slip up and do something stupid and be caught.

But Lucius Malfoy was different. Malfoy didn't follow Voldemort blindly like the rest. He followed the Dark Lord because it would get him power quickly and satisfy his sadistic cravings. Not some asinine quest for "_cleansing_" the wizarding world for the purebloods. He was cunning and ambitions to the extreme. Malfoy was a danger to Harry and his loved ones.

Harry calmly placed his index finger on Malfoy's forehead.

"Do it, I dare you," Malfoy sneered. "Use the Killing Curse, Potter."

Harry looked deeply into Malfoy's cold eyes. He had to do this, for his future, for Hermione.

"You can't do it, can you boy? You can't kill an unarmed man," Malfoy laughed mirthlessly. "I'll even give you a few pointers. First you have to truly hate your victim; hate him enough to wish him dead. Second you need to realize that your actions would end the life of another human being with two simple words. And third, you would have to take pleasure in it."

"I heard someone once say, 'There are worst things then death,'" Harry said serenely.

Harry saw fear and doubt creep into Malfoy's eyes.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy said.

"_OBLIVIATE_!"

Harry watched impassively as he saw all the fear and doubt drain from Malfoy's eyes. The older wizard moaned pitifully and crumpled to the floor in a heap. A soft gurgling noise emanated from Malfoy's throat. Harry turned his back on the vegetative Death Eater, confident that he could no longer harm anyone, anymore, ever again.

Harry rushed back to the statue and knelt next to the injured Headmaster. The young man smiled as he saw Fawkes crying his magical healing tears into Dumbledore's wound. The smile disappeared when Harry noticed that the blood from the wound continued to seep out.

"Do not worry yourself, Harry," Dumbledore said with a tiny twinkle in his eyes. "I am a touch older than you and my wounds will take a bit longer to heal, even with Fawkes' help. I shall be fine."

Harry did not need to be a master of Legilimency to know that the old wizard was lying to him.

"Sir…" Harry began to argue.

"I'm more concerned about you, my boy," Dumbledore said, interrupting him. "I can see that you made short work of those fiends, but it appears that you got injured."

Dumbledore took Harry's right hand in his. Harry was disturbed at how cold the Headmaster's hands were.

"It doesn't seem to be too severe," Dumbledore said inspecting the young man's hand. "A single tear from Fawkes should mend this cut quite easily."

Dumbledore gently held Harry's hand up to the beautiful phoenix. Harry looked at the wound as the magical bird moved its head over his hand so that its tears could heal him.

It wasn't very deep, and he had worse injuries in the past. But there was blood, and it had pooled in his palm.

Blood.

It seemed his life was always about blood. From the superficial status of the magical world, with "purebloods," "half-bloods," and "muggle-borns." To blood-magic. Harry should have been an expert on that subject. His mother gave up her life by performing some unknown ancient blood-magic to shield Harry from the Killing Curse. Lily's pure love for her child shielded him from Voldemort's hate driven curse.

That blood-magic was the reason Dumbledore placed Harry with his only surviving blood relative; Petunia, Lily's only sister. Dumbledore believed that if Harry lived with his aunt, that the blood-protection that Lily gave Harry would still be in effect.

Love, that was the power that Harry had and that Voldemort "knew not." It was given to him by his mother. Her love flowed through Harry's veins, protecting him.

Then, during his fourth year, Voldemort performed a blood-ritual of his own. Harry still had nightmares reliving that night. Wormtail cut open Harry's arm and took his blood from him as the young boy was tied to a tombstone. Voldemort used Harry's blood as one of the three main ingredients in his resurrection; "Bone of the father, unknowingly given. Flesh of the servant, willingly given. And blood of the enemy, forcibly taken."

Voldemort had taken Harry's blood in order to bypass Lily's blood-protection. Before the ritual, Voldemort could not be touched by Harry without feeling intense pain, weakening him, perhaps even eventually killing the villain.

So now, the power that his mother gave him was all for naught. The power flowed through Harry's veins now was in Voldemort.

As a magical tear formed in Fawkes' eye, Harry's memory wandered to a particularly confusing chapter in Advanced Potion Making, the book that Dumbledore had given Harry at the start of sixth year. It was a chapter on "blood-magic and its properties."

It stated:

"_A witch or wizard that has magical properties in their blood can transfer or imbue their 'blood-magic' to another witch or wizard through a complicated ritual._

_For example; a 'normal' or average wizard can become a Metamorphmagus if a true Metamorphmagus (a witch or wizard born with that power in their blood) donates the blood to be used in the ritual._

_There is a major difference in using normal blood as opposed to blood with magical properties in a ritual: the donor's consent._

_If the witch or wizard gives up their blood willingly and with full knowledge of the ramifications (i.e. if an average wizard becomes an Animagus through the use of another Animagus' blood, then the formally average wizard would have to register with the Ministry as an Animagus or both parties would face legal punishment), then there will be no complications in the ritual._

_But if the blood is taken without the donor's consent or knowledge, there will be some complications. Sometimes the magical properties may lay dormant. Also; the donor still has some form of control over the magical properties in the blood. For example, if the aforementioned wizard used a Metamorphmagus' blood without his or her knowledge, the true Metamorphmagus can control the other's powers if the two would ever have blood-to-blood contact. That is to say, the true Metamorphmagus could trigger changes in the appearance of the other, ritual-imbued Metamorphmagus._

_If the power lies dormant, it can be activated by blood-to-blood contact with the original donor."_

Harry's eyes widened in realization; "_… the power lies dormant…_" As Fawkes' tear fell towards Harry's hand, the young wizard closed his hand into a fist. The magical tear landed impotently on Harry's fingers, missing the bleeding gash in his palm.

"It's my blood…" Harry said as he held his bloodied hand in front of his face, "the blood in Voldemort's body, it's still mine."

Dumbledore smiled the same triumphant smile that Harry saw after the old wizard was first told about the ritual after the Third Task at the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"Yes, Harry, it is."

TBC


	9. Part Nine

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Nine: Harry's Tale **

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Nine Summary: Harry confronts Voldemort for the last time and the Riddle begins.

* * *

June 5th, 1998 (the day of the Final Battle):

Harry had left Professor Dumbledore hidden behind the statue. They agreed that Harry should not carry Dumbledore anywhere else due to the fact that the elder wizard was injured and should not be moved. Dumbledore kept insisting that Fawkes' tears would eventually heal his wound and that he would be fine. Harry was hesitant to leave the injured Headmaster alone, but Dumbledore insisted that if any trouble should arise that Fawkes would be able to teleport him to safety.

As the pressure from his scar lead him down toward the basement, Harry cursed himself for not realizing that he knew of a possible way to stop Voldemort for over a year now. He had read the critical passage on blood-rituals, but he had done so after a long and grueling study session and the only excuse he could make up was that he had been very tired and his brain was addled. He remembered that he barely kept his eyes open as he read the section pertaining to blood with magical properties. Dumbledore had even asked Harry if had understood what he had read and if he had any questions on the subject. Harry vaguely recalled answering "no" and promptly yawning. It was a miracle that Harry's mind had registered those few paragraphs at all he had been so tired at the time.

Dumbledore's habit of letting the student discover things on his own was often infuriating. He believed that if the student learned a subject with only a little guidance that the student had a better grasp on the subject. So, naturally, when Harry said that he had understood the section of blood rituals, Dumbledore did not press the issue.

It was ironic when he considered the situation. Voldemort took Harry's blood in order to defend himself against the young wizard's blood protection. Now that same stolen blood which kept Harry's touch from harming The Dark Lord would, hopefully, lead to his downfall.

Harry heard explosions coming from distant parts of the castle. Apparently, the school professors were giving the Death Eaters quite a fight. While Harry was worried for the professors' safety, he was confident that they could dish out some punishment to the Death Eaters.

Harry rounded a corner and headed down the stairs to the basement. His scar was tingling, telling him that he was getting closer to his destiny.

As he walked down the stairs, Harry examined the wound in his hand. The blood coming from the gash in his right palm slowed to a trickle.

Harry heard a familiar high pitched, cold voice echoing off of the corridor walls. It was Voldemort.

The Dark Lord was speaking with someone, but Harry could not hear the other person's voice well enough to identify who it was. Harry moved towards the sound of his nemesis' voice. He felt as if he was getting closer. Soon he would see them.

But before Harry could see the two people, he heard Voldemort clearly say, "I was going to wait until after I killed Potter and the old man to give you your just reward… but it seems that I must deal with you first."

Through their connection, Harry felt the hatred and sadistic joy build up in Voldemort. Harry knew before he heard the two words of The Killing Curse that someone was going to die.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Harry's blood chilled as he heard a body fall lifelessly to the floor, as if the unknown victim was a marionette whose strings had been cut. Harry ran toward the sound of Voldemort's voice. This was going to end today, and Harry was confident that the old snake would cause no more deaths.

"Now to deal with the whores," Harry heard Voldemort say. Knowing Voldemort, Harry thought that the fiend's plan was to find and kill Hermione and Ginny just to be able to further taunt Harry when he and The Dark Lord would confront each other.

As Harry turned the corner, he saw the tall, skeletal-thin figure of Voldemort standing over the dead body of Wormtail. Harry felt a small twinge of pity for the small man that Harry's father had considered a friend. Harry had tried to hate Peter for betraying his parents and Sirius, but all he could feel was pity.

Several years ago, Dumbledore had told Harry that the young wizard had earned a life debt from Peter when Harry saved his life from a vengeful Remus and Sirius. As Harry saw Wormtail's dead body, he wondered what Peter would have done if he had been given the chance to repay that debt.

Voldemort stepped over Pettigrew's body as if the corpse was nothing, and began inspecting the tapestry that hid the door to the school kitchen. Harry did not even try considering why the monster was looking at the tapestry as he tried to silently approach Voldemort from behind, but apparently Voldemort sensed Harry's presence through their shared connection.

"Ah, if it isn't the The-Boy-Who-Lived," Voldemort mocked with his back toward Harry. "You have saved me the trouble of looking for you," Voldemort laughed and turned to face Harry. "Your vaunted luck has finally run out boy. It is time you paid for all the aggravation you have caused."

Harry did not say a word as he stared into his foe's blood-red eyes. Harry continued to stride toward Voldemort.

"Just to let you know, after I finish you, I will take out my frustration on your little whore," Voldemort said with a smirk and pointed his wand directly at Harry. "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

With a wave of his empty hand, Harry silently cast a Banishing Charm on a loose flagstone in the floor. The flagstone was torn away from the floor and flew in front of Voldemort's curse. The large stone slammed into the green bolt and exploded. Harry stopped his advance and shielded his face with his arm as fragments of the flagstone shot in every direction.

As the dust from the explosion settled, Harry saw Voldemort clutching his forehead in pain. Voldemort pulled his hand away and looked in shock at the blood that now covered it.

"How did you do that?" Voldemort hissed at Harry. Harry had noticed a deep cut on Voldemort's head that was practically gushing blood. Harry then flexed his hand, reopening the cut on his own palm to intentionally make the blood flow freely again. "You will pay for that, boy! _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Harry cast another Banishing Charm to send a suit of armor flying into the path of the Killing Curse. With a sound of twisting metal, the armor twisted and crumpled as the curse struck it. Harry rushed at Voldemort and with his left hand grabbed the Dark Lord's right wrist and pushed up so that Voldemort's wand was pointing up and out of the way.

"Let me go, fool!" Voldemort shouted in Harry's face.

Harry slapped his injured hand on top of the cut in Voldemort's head. Voldemort tried to pull away from Harry's hand but it was as if someone had cast a Sticking Charm onto the hand.

When his blood touched Voldemort's blood, Harry felt their connection intensify. Harry saw flashes of images full of hate and anger coming from Voldemort's mind. The young wizard knew that he had to fight Voldemort's hate with the power that ran through his own blood. Harry screwed his eyes shut and focused on that power. The power that Voldemort knew not: love.

Memories began to flood Harry's mind, memories of happiness and love.

When Harry turned sixteen, Remus Lupin gave him a present that he would cherish for his entire life. It was one of Remus' memories in a Pensieve. It was a memory from when Harry was barely a week old, still in his swaddling cloth. His mother, Lily, was singing a lullaby to him.

To Harry, who had only heard his mother's voice a total of three times before, once in a Pensieve of Snape's memory from when she was 15 years old, second, whenever the Dementors approached Harry, as he heard her voice pleading for mercy just before she was murdered, and when Harry first dueled with Voldemort, a shade of his mother appeared and spoke briefly to Harry, this was a priceless treasure. Her voice was like an angel's, full of love and joy.

But it was just not her voice that struck Harry; it was the way she looked. She was so very happy as she looked at the baby in her arms that she was literally radiant. The love that Lily had felt for Harry filled the young man with unmeasured joy and bliss.

"Your blood-protection won't work anymo…" Voldemort began to say but was cut off by the powerful emotions in Harry mind.

Lily's beautiful voice filled Harry's mind:

"_Golden slumber kiss your eyes,_

_Smiles await you when you rise._

_Sleep, pretty baby,_

_Do not cry,_

_And I'll sing you a lullaby._"

Voldemort let out a painful groan. Harry could feel the villain's skin begin to heat up.

"_Care you know not,_

_Therefore sleep,_

_While I o'er you watch do keep._

_Sleep, pretty darling,_

_Do not cry,_

_And I will sing a lullaby._"

If Harry had his eyes open, he would have seen steam rising from beneath his hand.

As Lily's voice continued to sing in his mind, Harry recalled the first time he talked with his godfather, Sirius Black. They had just captured Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius asked if Harry would like to leave the Dursleys and live with him. Harry had been so happy at that time that he felt like he could have made the most magnificent Patronus ever. He immediately told his godfather yes. But Pettigrew escaped and Sirius had to go back into hiding.

Sirius was the first adult Harry trusted and truly cared for. He was like a brother and a father rolled into one.

Unfortunately, Harry never told Sirius how he felt. Harry's mind involuntarily flashed to the image of Sirius falling through the Veil. He remembered how it felt to lose the only person Harry knew as family. How Bellatrix Lestrange mocked Harry and his loss. Then he remembered the rage and hatred that billowed up inside of him as he cast the Cruciatus Curse on that bitch.

As Harry's concentration slipped, he received a vision from Voldemort in a feedback, through their connection. Harry saw a seventeen-year-old Tom Riddle walk into a beautifully decorated room where an elderly couple and a middle aged man demanded to know how he had gotten in. Tom raised his wand and pointed it at the middle-aged man.

"I just wanted to say 'hello,' Father," Tom said with an evil smile. The man's, Tom Sr., eyes bulged in realization. But before the elder Riddle could say anything, the young wizard pointed his wand at the old woman.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Tom Marvolo Riddle shouted. The woman crumpled to the floor. The older man was the next to fall to the Killing curse. Then, finally Tom, Sr. was killed.

Harry felt Voldemort's anger and sadistic pleasure connected with this memory of murdering his father and grandparents. The young wizard tried to block out Voldemort's hatred. But Voldemort forced another image into Harry's mind.

Tom Marvolo Riddle could not have been more than 8 years old during this particular memory. The boy was receiving a caning from the Director of the orphanage where he lived. Tom had a bout of accidental magic earlier and turned another boy's hair a putrid green. The Director was viciously beating Tom and called him a "freak!"

With his eyes still closed, Harry felt his hand start to burn. The pain in his hand reminded him of the time when he was little and he burnt his hand on the handle to a frying pan. The pan and its contents of eggs and bacon fell to the floor as Harry cried out in agony. Uncle Vernon was so angry with Harry that he threw the boy into the cupboard under the stairs. Before he slammed the door shut, Vernon shouted, "This is what you get for wasting food in this house, FREAK!"

His uncle had a very similar expression of rage the summer before Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts when Hermione had come to see Harry.

Harry had come out of his room when he heard his uncle screaming at the person who had knocked on the front door. Harry was shocked to hear Hermione's voice demanding to see him. He remembered how his uncle had refused to let Hermione enter his house, and how Hermione pushed her petite frame past the mass of flesh that was Vernon Dursley and ran up towards Harry. He did not ask why she was there; he just smiled sadly at her. Hermione embraced Harry lovingly. The two teens did not talk for what seemed like hours. Harry just cried softly into her hair, mourning for his lost godfather.

Once again, Lily's voice filled Harry's memories:

"_Care you know not,_

_Therefore sleep,_

_While I o'er you watch do keep…_"

The pain in Harry's hand disappeared and the putrid smell of boiling meat entered Harry's nose. Voldemort's groan turned into a pitiful cry.

Harry remembered when he first kissed Hermione. It was at the beginning of their seventh year, and to say that they were nervous would have been an understatement. They actually bumped their noses when they first attempted to kiss. Hermione had become so flustered that she started verbally planning how they should kiss; what angles their faces should be at, wondering if she should wet her lips beforehand, how much her lips should be parted, and whether they should wait and kiss another day.

Harry had cut off Hermione's monologue by leaning forward and pressing his lips gently to hers. His heart felt as if it would burst out of his chest at first. But then he and Hermione both melted into the kiss. It was an innocent kiss filled with hope and promise. It made him warm and made his lips tingle.

But the kiss was so much more than physical; it was almost spiritual. The two gave in to the kiss completely. They were complete. They were whole. They both fell asleep in each other's arms that night.

"_Smiles await you when you rise._

_Sleep, pretty baby,_

_Do not cry,_

_And I'll sing you a lullaby._"

Suddenly, Voldemort stopped crying and his head broke free from Harry's hand with a sickening squelching sound. The fiend's body fell to the floor with a thud.

Harry opened his eyes in disbelief. He stared at Voldemort's lifeless body at his feet. It was over. Voldemort was dead and Harry was alive.

In his wildest dreams, the ones where he dared to think he could defeat Voldemort and survive, he had always imagined that, at best, he would have lost a limb or, at worst, be severely wounded. But the only injuries that Harry received were mild burn blisters and a small gash across his palm.

"Well, that was a bit anti-climatic," Harry said to no one in particular.

A huge smile spread across Harry's face. The worst dark wizard in fifty years was dead. The prophesy was complete, and he was alive. He was free. It was over; he could lead a normal life. With Hermione.

Then, without warning, Harry's scar erupted with pain. He fell to the floor, writhing in agony. Harry's lungs let out an unholy scream. A scream that felt like it was ripping his throat apart.

He had never felt pain like this before. The Cruciatus Curse was nothing more than an annoying itch. The time Harry was possessed by Voldemort in the Ministry was a simple dull ache in comparison.

It felt as if his blood was boiling in his veins. His bones felt like they were being shattered and crushed. The muscles in his body felt as if they were snapping.

His mind begged for release, for the sweet mercy of oblivion. It was a pain that no one should suffer. It was a pain that he could not endure.

'_Mum, please help me!_' Harry's mind screamed out to heaven. '_Please, mum, make it stop!_'

In his mind, Harry begged for the pain to end. He begged his mother, his father, and Sirius for help.

He realized that they were dead, but Hermione wasn't. She was the brightest witch in their generation. She would be able to help him.

'_Please, Hermione, make it stop!_' his mind called out as his body continued its unholy scream.

Harry felt Hermione trying to get to him, but she felt a million miles away.

'_Help me Hermione!_'

The agony continued, as did his screams. Harry felt his mind begin to slip away as the pain ate at him.

Then it stopped. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Harry stared up at the ceiling. His clothes clung to his body, damp with his own sweat. He was completely drained and his mind was blank. His body felt as if it had fallen a dozen stories and landed on a pile of broken glass.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a tall man wearing blue robes shuffle up to him. Fawkes circled above Harry before landing on Dumbledore's arm.

"Come along now, Harry," Harry heard Dumbledore say. "We have much to do and little time to do it."

Before Harry lost conscious, he felt Dumbledore take his hand and then he, Dumbledore, and Fawkes disappeared in a flash of light.

"_Sleep, pretty baby,_

_Do not cry,_

_And I'll sing you a lullaby._"

* * *

Harry awoke from a deep, dreamless slumber to a pleasant tingling sensation in his right hand. He opened his eyes to see Fawkes crying his magical tears into Harry's palm, healing the minor wound.

"'lo, Fawkes," Harry said.

Something seemed odd to Harry, as if something was missing. Looking around, the young wizard quickly realized that he was in the Headmasters office. But, he noticed that all of the portraits of the former Headmasters were no longer hanging on the walls.

"I see you've notice that my esteemed predecessors are not with us right now," Dumbledore said weakly from his chair behind the desk.

Harry gasped at the Headmaster's condition. He was paler than any ghost Harry had seen and the ancient wizard was hunched over in his chair. Harry hurried to Dumbledore's side and almost slipped in a pool of the old man's blood. It seemed to Harry that he had lost all of his blood and was staying alive through a sheer force of will alone.

"Professor, we have to get you to the hospital ward," Harry cried. The young man turned to the phoenix. "Fawkes, get him there now!"

Fawkes seemed to shake his head sadly at Harry.

"It is quite alright, Harry," Dumbledore said as he looked into Harry's eyes. "Remember when I told you that death is just another adventure?"

Harry nodded as a single tear escaped his eyes.

"I am ready for that next adventure," Dumbledore patted Harry's arm affectionately. "I am old and would like to see some of my friends that have gone on before me. Please sit down Harry." Dumbledore gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "I do not have much time left"

Harry lowered himself into the chair.

"Now that Voldemort is truly dead and you are alive you have two options open to you," Dumbledore said. "The first option is that Harry Potter survived."

Harry knitted his brow in confusion. Why was Dumbledore referring to Harry in the third-person, as if he wasn't right here? And if the first option was "Harry Potter survived", what could the other option possible be? Harry opened his mouth to ask what the Headmaster meant when Dumbledore held up his hand to silence him.

"There are a number of Death Eaters that will escape justice today," Dumbledore continued. "Because of the Dark Mark burnt into their arms, they know their master is dead and won't be coming back this time. They will seek vengeance; not only upon Harry Potter, but upon the ones he loves as well."

Harry's heart sank; Dumbledore had just confirmed what Malfoy had said to Harry before the evil ponce was Obliviated. He tried to imagine leading a normal life with Hermione, but the thought of Death Eaters pursuing them plagued his mind.

"Not to mention that every witch and wizard who envisions themselves as the next 'Dark Lord' will want to test their mettle against Harry Potter," Dumbledore said. "And then there will be something far more terrifying and damaging than any dark wizard: the public.

"Harry Potter was the hero of the wizarding world when Voldemort's curse rebounded upon himself when Harry was just a baby," Dumbledore continued. "Now, Harry Potter has dueled with Voldemort and won. The fame that has haunted him these past few years will seem like nothing. For the next several years, people will be naming their children some variation of 'Harry.' He will be given job offers, not based on his merits, but on what his name is. Men will try to emulate him. Women will throw themselves at his feet just to be near him. And society will believe that no mere muggle born witch would ever be good enough for him. Harry Potter will be worshiped as a hero."

Harry slumped in his chair. The gravity of what Dumbledore had just told him lay heavy upon his shoulders.

"This, I image, is no way for one to live their life. Do you not agree, Harry?" Dumbledore asked to which Harry nodded his head.

"This brings me to your second option," Dumbledore stated. "Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, but, tragically, he died from a mortal wound."

"Professor, I don't understand."

"If Harry Potter died as a martyr, no Death Eater could seek vengeance upon him, for he would already be dead. His loved ones would be watched closely by the public in such a manner that no Death Eater would or could try to harm them." Dumbledore began to explain. "Families will put shrines in their houses for him. Monuments will be erected in his memory. His loved ones will be pursued for some time by society, but when Harry Potter's myth eventually outgrows reality, society will forget about the people that Harry considered 'family.' Harry Potter will be worshiped, I dare say, like a god."

The room fell silent as Harry pondered his "options" as Dumbledore called them. Harry did not like the idea of living under the scrutiny of the public eye. But the only way out of that particular situation was if he didn't survive the battle with Voldemort. Would Harry have to fake his own death? Would he have to leave the people he loved behind?

"Harry, I would like you to meet someone," Dumbledore said drawing Harry out of his thoughts. Dumbledore placed a picture on the desk in front of him. Harry leaned over the desk and was surprised to see a photo from his parents wedding. It was very similar to the one Harry had. It showed his parents, Lily and James, along with his godfather, Sirius. The three people smiled and waved happily to whomever had taken the picture.

Dumbledore waved his hand over the picture, and Lily, James, and Sirius began to merge together into an image of one person. This person had Sirius' long, straight hair but with Lily's auburn color. He had James' brow and cheekbones, Sirius' chin, and Lily's nose. But the most shocking thing about his appearance was his eyes. Behind the glasses that came from James, Harry saw his mother's unique green eyes.

"Harry, please meet… Jim Lillian," Dumbledore said as Harry examined the picture. "Tom Riddle's mother had loved her son, and she had named him after his father in hopes that the father would grow past his bigotry and learn to love the boy. Unfortunately, his father rejected him, and Tom turned the name his mother had given him out of love into something that was feared and hated."

Harry recalled when he confronted a sixteen-year-old memory of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. He remembered how Tom had said that he refused to share his name with his "_foul_" muggle father. Harry remembered how smug the shadow of Tom had been when he wrote "_Tom Marvolo Riddle_" magically in mid-air, and with a flick of his wand, changed it to "_I am Lord Voldemort_."

"Now, I may not have the flare for anagrams that Tom had, but I decided to celebrate your parents," Dumbledore said with a weak chuckle. "You see 'Jim' is short for 'James,' and if you say this young man's surname first and his given name second…"

"Lillian, James," Harry finished for the Headmaster.

"Yes, which sounds remarkably like '_Lily and James_,'" Dumbledore said with a smile. "I have created a full and detailed history for this young man. He is a muggle born who was sorted into Hufflepuff House. He did well in the same classes you did well in. He also has a sizable account at Gringotts. Unfortunately his parents have just died in an auto accident."

"But sir, I know I can alter my features to match his," Harry felt a little strange talking about a fictitious person, "but everyone will still recognize me. I can't change this damn scar."

Harry pointed to the scar that had adorned his forehead since he was eighteen months old. He was surprised when his finger brushed up against smooth skin. Harry's fingers played across his forehead in a vain attempt to find the jagged lighting bolt scar.

"It is gone, Harry," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. "That scar was a physical side-effect of a magical connection between you and Voldemort. That is why you could never change it through your Metamorphmagus abilities.

"When Voldemort died, so did the connection," Dumbledore continued. "That is why you felt so much pain earlier. The connection was overloading, or 'burning-out' if you will.

"Now that the connection between you and Lord Voldemort is gone, so is your scar," Dumbledore concluded.

Harry lowered his hands and looked at the picture of "Jim Lillian" again, memorizing his features.

"I had hoped that your confrontation with Voldemort would not have happened for a few more years. I had planned to alter memories of some key people, like the professors and some students. I would have had to implant years of memories of interactions with Mr. Lillian into at least a dozen people. But, this is not a perfect world and I did not have the time. Altering a magical person's memory is extremely difficult, especially to the degree of adding a fictitious person into their minds. I would suggest you not attempt it."

The headmaster handed Harry a small vial.

"This is a very special potion," Dumbledore said as Harry took the vial from him. "It will alter you magical signature so that any means of magical identification will identify you as 'Jim Lillian' and not as 'Harry Potter.'"

"You mean like the Marauders' Map?" Harry asked and Dumbledore nodded. "And post owls right?"

"If school was still in progress, I would have awarded ten points to Gryffindor," Dumbledore smiled. "Excuse me, Mr. Lillian is in Hufflepuff. Ten points to Hufflepuff."

Harry swallowed the sweet tasting potion in one gulp. He then closed his eyes and imagined his features changing into those of Jim Lillian. He felt his hair grow in length to touch his shoulders, and the bones in his face rearrange. After a few seconds, Harry opened his eyes and looked at the dying Headmaster.

"Very good… Jim," Dumbledore said with a tear in his eye. "Now I have a favor I need to ask of you. When I am gone, Fawkes will need to bond with another wizard to replace me. I dare say that he has already chosen you."

Harry looked at the phoenix and Fawkes seemed to sing his agreement. Harry turned his attention back to the Headmaster. Harry's heart sank as he saw that Dumbledore had slumped even farther into his chair.

"Please Professor; let me take you to Madame Pomfrey," Harry pleaded with the old man. He knew in his heart that Dumbledore did not have much time left.

"I have lived a long life, Harry. You have just started yours," Dumbledore said weakly, his life ebbing away as he spoke. "For people to truly believe that Harry perished, they will need to see a body. If we were just to say that 'Harry' died in the final battle but there was no body to show for it, far too many people would be suspicious. But if 'Harry's' body was to be found, it would be more believable. If you were to transfigure an inanimate object into a version of yourself, far too many people have the ability to 'see' if an object is inanimate or not. And these people would be able to notice that 'Harry's' body had never been alive. If they were to discover that the body is an inanimate object, the truth would be revealed. These people would pry into what truly happened here today until you were exposed."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in pain as a violent coughing fit rocked his body. Harry rushed to his side and took his hand in his. Harry was taken back at how very cold Dumbledore's hand was.

"If the wrong people were to find out this secret, your life would be ruined," Dumbledore forced the words out with his eyes still screwed shut. "But if you used a dead body, because it was once truly alive, no one would be the wiser."

"What do you mean, Sir?" Harry asked the question to which he already knew the answer to, but dreaded.

"When I die, which I imagine will be very shortly, you will need to transfigure my body to look like yours," Dumbledore answered.

"Professor, I can't," Harry exclaimed. "You have touched so many people. You have made their lives better just by being a part of theirs. They need to say goodbye to you."

"I have made far too many mistakes concerning your life Harry," Dumbledore argued. Each word was a struggle for the old man. "And those mistakes have caused you a great deal of pain and suffering. If people believe that Harry died today, you can start a normal life as Jim. You won't be hounded and hunted. Please let me atone for my mistakes and help you create a new and better life."

For a silent moment, Harry weighed what he had been told.

"Alright, sir I'll do it," Harry said as another tear fell from his eyes.

"Good, thank you," Dumbledore said weakly.

Harry watched as Dumbledore's breath become more labored and shallow. He recalled how much time he had spent with the ancient wizard over the past two years. Dumbledore had helped Harry in a number of subjects, and he had excelled in classes that had been a struggle before the Headmaster's tutoring.

But the two had spent a great deal of time on things other than school subjects. He helped Harry in issues of the heart as well. Harry remembered the first few months of his sixth year when Dumbledore mended the rift that had developed the previous year. During the countless times that the two shared tea, Dumbledore told Harry how his mother, Lily, had helped James, his father, mature into a gentle and caring man. In fact, Harry had approached Dumbledore when he needed help in his own budding relationship with Hermione. To help Harry with the ups and downs of dating, the old wizard had shared stories of how James and Lily had a difficult time transitioning into an affectionate relationship, and how he and his deceased wife had worked through their own courtship.

Far too many people had died in Harry's life: his parents and Sirius, and people that Harry considered family, Ron, Neville, and Luna. Now Harry watched as Dumbledore slowly slipped away. He realized that this man had grown to be part of Harry's family as well. And just like his mother, his father, and Sirius, Dumbledore was going to die. Harry regretted never really knowing his parents before they died and that he wasn't able to tell Sirius what he meant to him or even to say goodbye.

With tears flooding his eyes, Harry leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Dumbledore's forehead.

"Goodbye, grandfather."

A smile appeared on Dumbledore's face and a tear escaped his eye.

"I will see you again, Harry, in many, many years," the ancient wizard said and then drifted away silently. Fawkes trilled a mournful tune and Harry wept.

After a few moments of holding Dumbledore's hand, Harry stood up. He examined himself in the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room.

"I reckon this will take some getting used to," Harry said to his refection. Fawkes gracefully flew from his perch and landed on Harry's shoulder. He smiled at the magical bird. "'Lo, Fawkes. My name is Jim, Jim Lillian."

The phoenix sang a greeting to "Jim."

Harry looked once more at the body of Dumbledore.

"Goodbye, sir, thank you for everything," Harry said and closed his eyes.

Harry focused his mind on how he used to look. Transfiguring Dumbledore's body was going to take some effort on his part. The two most obvious things that Harry had to recreate, the general features of his face and his infamous scar, would be easy. He considered his scar the easiest thing to copy. He had seen that lighting bolt shape thousands of times in the mirror. Replicating his thin face and wild hair was going to be fairly simple. It was the tiny lines that creased his face that were going to be the difficult part.

When Harry felt he had successfully visualized what he used to look like, he muttered the necessary incantation and waved his hand over Dumbledore's body. Harry opened his eyes to see a mirror image of his former self sitting where Dumbledore once was.

"This is it, then," the now auburn-haired wizard sighed. "There's no turning back."

He had to get to the Room of Requirement; Harry had to get to Hermione to make sure that she was safe. He also had to tell her about the secret before someone told her that he was dead. Harry could not bear the thought of Hermione grieving over him.

As a means for getting to the Room, Harry briefly considered using Fawkes' ability of teleporting to get there. But without the Marauders' Map, Harry could not tell if the hall in front of the Room would be empty or not. The thought of magically appearing in front of someone and then trying to explain to that person who he was and why he had Dumbledore's pet phoenix was far too risky. He then considered using a Disillusionment Charm on Fawkes and himself to make them invisible and then teleporting to the room. But Harry knew that the phoenix sent off a burst of flame whenever he teleported and Harry doubted that the Disillusionment Charm would hide the magical burst. So Harry settled on Disillusioning himself and Fawkes and walking to the Room, instead.

It took him a long time to get to the Room because Harry decided to take the back route rather than risk running into anyone. Even though he and Fawkes, who was perched on his shoulder, were practically invisible, he did not want to chance any form of contact with people. Harry figured that if he was unlucky, he would run into someone like "Mad-Eye" Moody and be discovered. After several long minutes, he finally reached the painting of Barnabus the Barmy.

Harry paced the hall, concentrating on finding Hermione and Ginny. The door didn't appear on his third pass, much to Harry's surprise. He paced again, this time focusing his thoughts on opening the door to the room. The third time Harry passed, a door magically appeared.

He quickly opened the door and entered a small, stark white room. Horror-struck, Harry scanned the empty room.

"Where are they?" Harry asked aloud with a quiver in his voice. The phoenix answered with a sad trill.

'_Why aren't they here?_' Harry asked himself. '_What could've happened?_'

A sudden chill ran through Harry's body, as if he was doused with a bucket of ice water. A terrible thought entered Harry's mind:

'_What if they didn't make it? What if the Death Eaters got her?_'

Harry's mind was filled with terrible images of a defenseless Hermione and Ginny being attacked by Death Eaters. He sank to his knees muttering, "No, no, no."

He had to find her; he had to make sure Hermione was safe. Harry didn't care if was seen by someone and his secret was discovered. He had to find her!

A hissing sound drew Harry's attention. The wall in front of him was being covered with thick silver smoke clouds, which were being blown up from the floor. Before Harry's eyes, the clouds of smoke began to from into solid shapes. Harry saw the clouds form into the familiar shapes of Hermione and Ginny. The Room was showing Harry where the girls were.

Harry saw that Hermione and Ginny were huddled together on a small bench somewhere, but Harry couldn't tell where they were. The magical forms grew so detailed that Harry saw that Ginny was trying to silently comfort Hermione and that Hermione had a drained, almost lifeless expression on her face. The clouds slowly began to fill in the details of the room where the girls were. They were sitting in front of a fireplace that Harry vaguely recalled. A small bit of the cloud formed itself into a shape of a house-elf. The elf moved towards the two girls and tried to offer them some pumpkin juice, but Ginny waved the tiny creature away.

It suddenly dawned upon Harry where the two girls were; they were in the school kitchen! The two girls must have gone through the basement in hopes of bypassing any Death Eaters, but had somehow ended up in the kitchen. They would have heard the confrontation between Harry and Voldemort. For all Hermione and Ginny knew, Harry had fallen in the battle.

He had to get to Hermione. She obviously thought that Harry was dead or dying. Harry had to go to her, to alleviate her suffering, to tell her that he was okay. Harry turned toward the door when he heard a banging noise coming from the cloud image.

Harry heard two muffled voices calling Ginny's name. Harry knew that it had to be the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They must have found the Marauders' Map and used it to locate their sister and Hermione.

"Open the door. It''s all over," Harry turned as he heard the cloud version of Hermione say.

Harry watched as ghostly reproductions of the Weasleys rushed into the kitchen and carry both girls out into the hallway.

In the hallway, a new, very large figure walked into view. Harry's blood ran cold as he saw Hagrid carrying Dumbledore's transfigured body past the Weasleys and Hermione. For all that Hermione knew, that was the body of Harry. She started to scream.

Harry slumped to the floor; he could not endure to see his love suffering so much. What he saw next did nothing to ease his pain.

Harry watched helplessly as Hermione was moved to the Headmaster's office and gave her testimony of what had happened. In his heart, Harry wanted so desperately to storm into the office and tell her the truth, to tell her that he was alive. But in his mind, he knew that he could not. For if he did, everything that Dumbledore had sacrificed in order for Harry to have a normal life would be destroyed. So Harry just sat in the Room, sobbing as he watched as his Hermione told her tale.

When Hermione had finished her testimony, Remus stood and said that he was taking her to the Hospital Ward to pay her respects.

"Fawkes," Harry said turning to the phoenix on his shoulder, "teleport to the cave in the mountain where Sirius hid during my third year. I'll meet up with you later."

With a flash, Fawkes disappeared. Harry stood and walked out of the Room of Requirement and made his way towards the Hospital Ward.

After a few agonizing minutes, Harry, who was still disillusioned, slipped into the Ward and saw that someone had cast a privacy charm around the far bed. Harry knew that Hermione was in that black bubble; he could feel her.

Harry slowly made his way up to the bubble and pushed his way through it. When he entered the bubble, Harry immediately noticed that Hermione was worrying her lower lip, a habit that she always did when she was faced with a difficult problem. Harry followed her eyes and saw that she was staring intently at the scar on the body's forehead. Obviously, Hermione noticed that something was wrong. She slowly pulled her wand out of her pocket and raised it in the air.

This made Harry wonder what he did wrong during the transfiguration of Dumbledore's body that caught Hermione's interest, particularly the scar. Harry was positive that he had gotten that part down. He had that bloody scar for as long as he could remember. When he was in primary school, it had made him unique; something that the other kids didn't have. When he first entered Hogwarts, it made him a hero. Shortly after that, the scar brought him infamy.

Harry was positive that he had done the scar right; he had seen the damned thing thousands of times in the mirror. Then it hit him: _Mirror_.

He had stupidly created a mirror copy of his scar on Dumbledore's forehead! The scar was reversed.

Before Harry could open his mouth, Hermione brought her wand down.

"_Finite Incantatem_," she said clearly.

Harry quickly maneuvered his hand in-between Hermione's wand and the body. The wand touched Harry's palm and it felt as if warm water was trickling up his hand. The Disillusionment Charm was being lifted off of Harry's body.

Hermione took a step back in shock as she saw an unknown person appear in front of her. She pointed her wand at him and took a defensive stance. Harry knew that she was preparing herself to launch a stunner at him.

Harry saw that she was quickly taking in his new features, trying to recognize him as a friend or foe. She skimmed over his body and long auburn hair. Her hazel eyes then fell on his green eyes.

"Harry?" Hermione sobbed.

TBC


	10. Part Ten

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Ten: Minerva's Tale **

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Ten Summary: Minerva tries to comprehend the Riddle.

* * *

13th August, 2005 (the present):

Minerva stared in disbelief at the man, Lillian, standing in front of her. The story he just told was something that Minerva was having trouble wrapping her mind around. The man who had been a mystery for Minerva for years had just revealed his secret: Jim Lillian was Harry Potter in disguise!

The green-eyed Lillian fidgeted with his shaded glasses that he held at his side as he looked around at Ginny, Remus, and Minerva. The young man had an unmistakable look of guilt about his face.

"I'm sorry," he said with regret. "I wanted to tell you earlier, but I reckoned that we should wait a bit longer."

"Now hold on, Jim," Hermione said resting her hand upon his. "Place the blame on me; I decided that no one else should know."

"Harry?" Ginny squeaked. She had been staring at Lillian with wide eyes and an open mouth ever since he had started his tale. Ginny turned her attention to Hermione. "You knew? You knew all along?"

"I'm so sorry Ginny," Hermione said as she got out of her chair and knelt next to the red-haired witch. "When Harry came to me in the Hospital Ward and told me what happened, I believed that Professor Dumbledore was right when he said that only a few people should know. Harry wanted to tell you and your family, but if someone noticed that you weren't grieving for Harry as much as you should have, it would have aroused suspicion."

"But you were a grieving wreck," Minerva stated to Hermione. "I remember you nearly collapsing as you lit Harry's funeral pyre."

"Do you remember when you visited me the day before the funeral?" Hermione asked the older witch. "The potion that I was brewing in the Common Room wasn't a sleep draught. It was a Weeping Potion. Simply put, it's designed to make the imbiber cry."

"And I think you over did it a bit that day," the man who Minerva had known until recently as Lillian said to Hermione. "You were supposed to look like you were grieving, but not like you were having a nervous breakdown."

"I did the best I could, Harry!" Hermione shot back. "Anyway, I took progressively smaller dosages of the Weeping Potion over the next two years, to make it appear that I was still in mourning.

"For the next three years, while I was in apprenticeship and Harry, I mean Jim, was at the Auror Academy, we kept in minimal contact, just letters," Hermione continued as she stood up and walked to Lillian's side. "Fawkes and Hedwig both must have flown so much that I think could have traversed the globe.

"But after that, we started to meet each other in secret; mostly over the winter and summer holidays. That's why I had that flat in muggle Edinburgh; we figured that was the best place to meet secretly."

Ginny's expression of shock and disbelief snapped into one of anger. She shot up out of her chair and stomped over to stand in front of Hermione and Lillian.

"You mean to tell me that you two have been together for years!" Ginny shouted at the pair. "Wait a minute! That _was _someone Apparating in your flat last Christmas! It was him!" She ended her tirade by jabbing her finger into Lillian's ribs. "Then you both pretended that you didn't know each other when I hooked you up on that blind date."

"I'm sorry, Ginny. I was just playing a practical joke on Hermione that day, not on you. Hermione didn't know that you were planning on putting us on a blind date. In truth, we had planned on telling you our secret on Christmas Eve," Lillian pled with Ginny, his green eyes begging for forgiveness. "But then that kid had to go and ask you to sign his book as 'Harold Potter's friend'…"

"We decided to wait just a while longer," Hermione finished his sentence with tears streaming down her face.

Then Ginny did something unexpected: she made a fist and slammed it into Lillian's chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny screamed as she struck Lillian another time. "Do you know how many times I've cried myself to sleep because I never had the chance to tell you what you meant to me?"

Lillian winced in pain as Ginny hit him again. Tears fell down his face, but they obviously weren't caused by Ginny hitting him. They were tears shed for the pain that he cause the red-haired witch.

Minerva was suddenly struck at how similar this situation must have been to that dreadful time, the day of the Final Battle, when Ginny attacked her brother, Ron, on the Astronomy Tower. Whereas Ron recoiled from the beating that Ginny had given him, Lillian stood his ground like a man and let Ginny vent all of her anger and frustrations upon him.

"Tell me now, Ginny," Lillian said through his tears as Ginny hit him again.

"I never got to tell you…" Ginny sobbed as she hit him with less force than before. "That you were like a brother…" Ginny hit Lillian much softer this time, as she was starting to grow tired, both physically and emotionally. "I never got the chance to tell you that I loved you."

A dull thud sounded as Ginny weakly hit Lillian's chest with both hands. She left her balled-up fists on his chest and looked with tear filled eyes into his red rimmed eyes and said:

"Thank you, Harry. Thank you for saving me from Riddle and the Basilisk. Thank you for being my friend." Ginny let out a shuddering breath "And thank you for being my brother."

Her hands slid abound his body and Ginny buried her face into Lillian's chest.

"I love you, Harry," she cried into his chest.

"I love you too, little sister," Lillian said as he returned her embrace.

Hermione, who had been standing off to the side sobbing silently, walked over and threw her arms around Lillian and Ginny.

"Don't you EVER do that like that again without telling me straight away!" Ginny sobbed and laughed at the same time. The three people continued to hold each other and after a few moments, Ginny turned to Hermione. "Here you've been getting shagged for years and I just noticed it a few days ago. What kind of friend am I?"

"The best kind," Hermione said, and then kissed Ginny on the cheek.

After a few moments, Lillian broke away from the embrace and turned to Remus, who was still sitting in his chair.

"Professor?" Lillian asked hesitantly. "Professor Lupin…"

"When I lost James and Lily, I knew it," Remus said without looking up. "I could feel it in my bones that they had died. The same with Sirius; the instant he fell through the veil, I knew that he was gone.

"But when I saw your body… Harry's body, I didn't feel it. I was shocked and saddened, but it didn't feel like you were gone." Remus looked up with a smile on his face and in his red-rimmed eyes. "I knew somewhere deep down inside that you were still out there, still alive."

Remus stood up and hugged the younger wizard.

"Welcome back, Harry," Remus said with tears of joy.

"Thank you, Professor," Lillian said.

"For the last time, Harry," Remus said with a chuckle, "call me Moony."

"Yes, Professor Moony," Lillian with a mischievous smile. Both men laughed and Lillian wiped a tear away from his eye.

"Hey, what's the deal with your eyes, anyway?" Ginny asked, pointing at Lillian.

"Oh, that was another one of my ideas," Hermione answered. "Harry's eyes are such a unique color and since he can't alter them, I figured that too many people might be able to recognize them. So I charmed his glasses not only to be shaded but to make his pupils appear brown."

"Good job," Ginny said leaning into Hermione while staring at Lillian. "But I prefer them green."

"So do I," Hermione replied in a stage whisper.

The four of them laughed jovially.

"So, when are you gonna tell Mum and Dad?" Ginny asked meekly.

"After we're done here, we'll Floo over to the Burrow and tell them," Hermione said in a reassuring tone.

"I think we should tell Kingsley at the same time," Lillian added. "Otherwise he'll keep shadowing me, or rather us now, around Britain. I'll send Fawkes with a message, telling him to meet us at the Weasley's."

"Actually, it would be better if we have Minerva write it," Hermione added. "He would trust her rather than us right now. We will need to make sure that he doesn't ask about what happened on the Astronomy Tower in front of the Weasleys, though. We can tell him whole story later so he will drop his unofficial investigation; there is no need for anyone else to discover the truth."

After a moment, Lillian broke away from the others and walked up to Minerva's desk.

"Are you alright, Professor?" Lillian asked her. Minerva had not noticed that she was still staring dumbly at Lillian. She blinked then locked eyes with the young man.

Minerva got lost in his eyes. Those beautiful green eyes that Harry inherited from his mother. A tear escaped Minerva's eye as it all started to settle in.

"Yes I'm fine, Lillian…I mean Harry. I mean Jim," Minerva said a bit flustered. "This will take some time getting used to."

"You're telling me," Hermione said. "I've been trying to call him 'Jim' for seven years, and I still forget sometimes."

"It is good to have you back, Harry," Minerva said as she wiped a tear from her eye with a handkerchief.

"So, did I get it?" Lillian, that is to say, Harry asked.

"Did you get what, dear boy?" Minerva asked, slightly confused.

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts position," Harry replied with a grin. "Did I get the job?"

As Minerva looked at Harry, it suddenly dawned on her that this man could be the one to finally break the legendary "one-year curse" that has troubled the school for so long. She knew from when Harry ran the DA while he was in school that Harry excelled in teaching, and just as importantly, he could easily avoid any of the problems that have plagued the previous professors.

"Hogwarts would be proud to have you… Professor Lillian," Minerva said with a huge smile.

After Remus congratulated Harry with a pat on the back and he received a round of hugs from Hermione, Ginny, and Minerva, Harry said, "Of the three things I set out to accomplish today, getting the DADA job was the least important."

"What three things?" Hermione asked. "I only know of two: getting the DADA position and telling the others the truth about your identity."

"Well the third thing is a surprise," Harry said. "And I need a favor from you three," he continued, indicating Remus, Ginny, and Minerva.

"Whatever you need Harry," Remus answered for the three of them.

Hermione furrowed her brow trying to figure out what it was that Harry had in store for her.

"Well, as you know Hermione and I are going to be _officially_ married in a couple of weeks," Harry said, adding quickly: "Which all three of you are invited to, by the way."

"Excuse me," Hermione interrupted, "what do you mean by '_officially,'_ Jim?"

"That's just it. I'm not Jim," Harry stated, as if that answered Hermione's question. "Try as I may, I'm not him."

"I don't understand."

"I would like for Minerva to perform an unofficial ceremony with Ginny and Remus as witnesses," Harry said as he took Hermione's hands in his. "Just for us, you and me, the real me."

Harry screwed his eyes shut and before everyone's eyes began to change. His hair shrunk back into his scalp until it was short and unkempt. It also darkened until it was raven black. His features slowly changed to resemble someone more familiar to Minerva and Remus.

For a brief moment, Remus and Minerva thought they were looking at a ghost of a 24 year-old James Potter. But both of them gasped when he opened his green eyes. The last remaining doubt that Minerva might have had as to validity of this man being Harry Potter was thrown to the wind.

"This is who I truly am," Harry said to a tearful Hermione. "This is who I want for you to be married to."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sighed. "No matter what you look like, or call yourself, you will always be my Harry."

"But I want you to remember me this way on our wedding day," Harry said.

The couple leaned together and kissed.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said and then turned to Minerva. "Professor, if you will do the honors?"

Minerva wiped another tear from her eye, and nodded to the loving couple. She cleared her throat before saying:

"Harry James Potter, do you take Hermione Jane Granger…"

TBC


	11. Part Eleven

The Riddle of Jim Lillian

**Part Eleven: Molly's Tale**

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**WARNING:** Major Character Deaths

Part Eleven Summary: The Weasleys and Kinsley learn the answer to the Riddle

* * *

13th August, 2005

'The Burrow hasn't felt so alive in years,' Molly Weasley thought to herself as she placed another dirty pan into the sink. The Weasley matriarch smiled as she looked out the back window and watched all of her grandchildren romping around in the garden; well, all of her grandchildren who had already learned how to walk that is. Three-month old Theodore ("Teddy-Bear") Weasley slept on his mother's lap.

"'Course, now he sleeps," a lime-green haired Tonks whispered to her mother in law. "I swear Teddy-Bear was up all night last night."

"Don't fret, Tonks dear," Molly said, with only a slight pause on her daughter-in-law's name. Molly was still upset that she had to refer to Charlie's wife by her surname. "It's just a phase; he'll grow out of it soon enough."

"Why don't we put the little tyke in his crib?" Charlie said in-between cooing at his son. "We don't want his cousins to wake him, now do we?"

As if on cue, a loud bang echoed throughout the house as the front door to the Burrow flew open, and Fred and George stomped in.

"Did she get it?" the twins shouted in unison.

Molly swiftly walked up to her twins and slapped a wooden spoon across Fred's left hand.

"Oi, what's that for?" George asked as Fred winced in pain.

"Be quiet, or you'll wake the baby!" Molly scolded the twins in a hushed tone as she whacked George's hand for good measure.

"Sorry, mum," Fred and George muttered in unison, while rubbing the backs of their hands.

"S'right boys, he's still asleep," Tonks said cradling her baby as she walked past the twins. "I'm gonna take him up to one of the rooms, just in case, though."

"To answer you question," Charlie said as he thumped Fred on the back in greeting, "we haven't heard from Ginny yet."

"Oh, I do hope she'll get the job," Molly moaned as she wringed her hands. Even though Ginny had just learned of the position of Hogwarts' Flight Instructor being available, she had her heart set on it. Molly truly did hate to see any of her children disappointed, but especially her only daughter.

"Mum, what's wrong?" Bill asked as he noticed his mother's obvious nervous anxiety. He had just entered from the garden followed by his wife, Fleur, along with the family patriarch, Arthur.

"Oh, mum's just worried that Ginny is going to get turned down," Charlie answered.

"Mum, Ginny's the best flyer there is," Fred said.

"Yeah, and, more importantly, she's brilliant with kids," George added.

"Minerva would be foolish to not hire her," Arthur said, as he hugged Molly comfortingly. Charlie, Bill, and the twins happily joined in the family embrace.

As all of the Weasleys were locked in a family embrace, their attention was drawn toward the fireplace as the normal red and yellow flames turned into a bright green.

"Well, here's our little girl now," Arthur beamed.

To the Weasleys' collective surprise, it was not Ginny who stepped out of the fire, Kingsley Shacklebolt did. The tall, bald Auror looked at the surprised red-haired clan.

Before Kingsley could greet the family, a cheerful voice called out from the stairwell.

"Wotcher, Shack," Tonks called out as she re-entered the room. "What're you doing here?"

"Sorry about arriving uninvited, Arthur, Molly," Kingsley apologized as he awkwardly greeted the family. "I received a very unusual note from Minerva asking me to meet her here. It said that she had something of great importance to tell all of us."

"That's odd," Molly said. "Minerva hasn't contacted us yet. It's unlike her to not notify us in advance."

"Well, the most unusual part of the message was how it was delivered," Kingsley added. "The note was delivered by Fawkes."

"Fawkes?" the twins blurted out.

"Dumbledore's phoenix?" Charlie asked.

"But no one has seen or heard from Dumbledore in years," Arthur stated.

"Does that mean he's come back?" Bill interjected.

Before Kingsley could respond, the fireplace erupted in green flames once more, and Ginny stormed out of the hearth and into the room. The red-haired witch rushed past Kingsley without even acknowledging him, and hugged her mother and father.

"Mum, Dad, I've got great news!" Ginny exclaimed happily.

"So, did you get the position?" Arthur asked.

"Huh? What position?" Ginny asked completely bewildered at her father's question.

"The Flight Instructor for Hogwarts."

"Oh, that," Ginny replied, as she waved her hand as if the concept was inconsequential. "Yes, but that's not what's so great."

Before Ginny could elaborate, the fireplace erupted once again, and Minerva McGonagall gracefully stepped out followed by Remus Lupin.

"Ginny, are the children outside?" Minerva asked without acknowledging the others in the room. Molly was taken back; it wasn't like Minerva to be so rude.

"Yes, they are," Ginny answered after she quickly scanned the room.

"Remus, if you would please keep the children entertained?" Minerva asked gesturing to the door.

"Of course," Remus answered and waved politely to the Weasley clan before walking outside. Molly heard Remus place a locking and silencing charm on the door.

"Minerva, what is going on?" Molly demanded as her patience finally wore out.

"I don't believe I should be the one to tell you," Minerva said and Hermione Granger stumbled out of the fireplace.

But before the Weasleys could greet or ask Hermione what was going on, the man known as Jim Lillian fell gracelessly from the green flames and landed flat on his face with a painful thud.

"I _hate_ traveling by floo," Jim moaned as he picked himself off of the ground. "I don't understand why we just didn't have Fawkes teleport us from Minerva's office."

"He was busy delivering the note to Kingsley, if you recall," Hermione told him.

A burst of crimson flames illuminated the room as Fawkes magically appeared. The phoenix flew once around the room before landing on Jim's shoulder.

"Now you show up," Jim ruefully said to Fawkes. The phoenix trilled a short note that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

"Would someone mind telling us what's going on?" Bill asked loudly.

Jim seemed to scan the room apprehensively before asking Ginny, "Percy isn't here, is he?"

"Oh, no. Today was the first time any of us have even seen him in years," Ginny answered and then added: "The git."

"You saw Percy today?" Bill asked. "What was that prat up to now?"

"He was trying to get Minerva to authorize a statue of Harry to be erected on the school grounds," Ginny said. Molly was confused by her peculiar actions. For some odd reason, when Ginny said Harry's name, she jabbed her thumb in the direction of Lillian.

Molly felt a pang of guilt at the mention of Percy's name. It was bad enough to lose a son to violence, as she knew. She lost two sons during the Final Battle; only one may have been from her womb, but the other was mutually accepted as to be her son as well. However, to have a son consciously sever all ties with his family was even more heart wrenching. Percy was alive and well, but refused to be associated with his family out of anger and spite, and a sense of misplaced pride. Molly spent many nights worrying herself sick over her third eldest son.

"You should have seen Hermione tell him off," Ginny continued.

"Ginny, that's not why we're here," Hermione interrupted. The brunette witch turned to face the Weasley clan. "We have something rather important to tell you."

"Tell us what, dear?" Molly asked.

Hermione turned to face Jim, who had started to pace back and forth behind her.

"I don't know where to start," Jim mumbled.

"It's alright," Hermione said as she laid her hand on Jim's arm. Jim stopped pacing and smiled at her. He took a seat next to Hermione as she continued. "I'll start at the beginning. A year before his birth, a prophesy was made concerning Harry and Voldemort."

"Yes, Arthur told us what you had said after the Final Battle," Molly said. "That poor boy was hunted his entire life…" The Weasley matriarch wiped a tear from her eye at the memory of her lost surrogate son.

"Well, do you remember the one line that specifically stated: '_And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…'?" _Hermione paused as the Weasleys pondered that phrase."It clearly stated that for either Harry or Voldemort to live, one had to be killed by the other. You said it yourself Molly, when you said Harry was hunted his entire life. Voldemort was obsessed with Harry and pursued him nearly every day. That is no way for anyone to live: hunted and hunter."

"But wait a tic," George or Fred, Molly wasn't certain which one, interrupted because she was wrapped up in trying to follow what Hermione was trying to impart. "Harry died a few minutes after Ol' Snake-Face did."

"Well, yes, technically speaking, he did," Hermione answered. Almost all of the Weasleys, save for Ginny, shared a puzzled look. "I'll ask you a question: would Harry have enjoyed all the attention that he is getting now? All the monuments, the endless hero worship?"

"No, he despised all of that rubbish," Molly answered. "It would have driven him mad. He was such a humble boy."

"So, it is safe to say that Harry could not truly '_live_' with all of the attention?" Hermione asked the group.

"No, he would have hated it," Bill agreed.

"Am I the only one who's lost?" one of the twins asked his family.

"Maybe this will help to clear things up a bit," Hermione stated and walked up in front of Tonks. "You and I know a secret about Harry; something no one else besides Dumbledore knew."

"Yeah, he was a Metamorphmagus, like me," Tonks replied sadly.

"No, Tonks, he _is_ a Metamorphmagus like you," Hermione corrected her softly.

"What?" Tonks blurted out. After a moment, Tonks' eyes fell on Lillian who was still seated. The green-haired witch slowly stood up and made her way toward Jim.

"I'm sorry, Tonks," Jim said as tried to fight back tears. "I wanted to tell you… all of you the truth, really… but I had to wait."

Tonks knelt down in front of Lillian and gently removed his shaded glasses.

"Sweet Merlin!" Tonks gasped. She cupped his face in her hands, leaned in and kissed him gently.

"Hey, what the hell is going on?" Charlie shouted, stunned that his wife was kissing another man.

"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks said through her own tears as she pulled away from Jim.

Each of the Weasleys and Kingsley had the same confused look about their faces.

"Tonks… what did you just call him?" Molly asked, completely confused and dumbfounded.

"Do it, Harry, revert to your normal self," Tonks said quietly to Jim.

Jim screwed his eyes shut and great streams of unshed tears fell from them. The Weasleys gasped in unison as they saw Jim's hair and features change into that of a man they had not seen in seven years. One that they thought they would never see again.

"HARRY!" Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie shouted and rushed the short man sitting in front of Tonks. The older two Weasley children scooped Harry up in an embrace shortly before Fred and George leapt on all of them, sending the entire group of all five men crashing to the ground.

"Gerroff, Gred, Forge," Harry's muffled voice was heard from beneath the pile of bodies.

"Boys, get off of him!" Arthur shouted as he pulled Bill out of the pile. After Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie stood up, Arthur grabbed Harry around the shoulders in a fatherly hug. "It's good to have you back, Harry."

"But how…?" Fred asked.

As Hermione filled the clan in on the actions Dumbledore had taken so that Harry could lead a normal life, Kingsley and the Weasleys, except for Molly, all hugged Harry, and Fleur placed kisses all over Harry's face. Molly stood, ashen faced and unmoving in the back of the room.

"Pardon me, Jim… I mean Harry… I have a question that has been bothering me since the day you resigned. About the Malfoy/Lestrange execution," Kingsley began as he grabbed Harry's shoulder. "What the bloody hell did you say to Bellatrix Lestrange after she took the poison?" 

"Oh well, I'm not particularly proud of that…" Harry muttered as he shifted his weight between his feet. "And it wasn't especially bright…"

"It was stupid is what it was," Hermione barked. She leveled her steely gaze on Harry as she continued to lecture him. "Lestrange could have easily ruined everything with a few words."

"So, what did you say?" George chimed in.

"After she had killed Sirius, Lestrange mocked me by calling me '_wee-baby Potter_,'" Harry said. "And when she drank the poison, I couldn't get past how smug and proud she looked, like she actually believed that Voldemort would return and resurrect her. I just couldn't help myself.

"So, I walked over to her and lowered my glasses to show her my real eye color, and said 'If Voldemort does come back, then this "_wee-baby Potter_" will stop him again.'

"I know it was petty, but I couldn't stand to see her face death like it was a meaningless joke. That it was something she could shrug off. Not after what she had done to all those people, made them beg, made them suffer. I just wanted to see her grovel."

After a tense moment of awkward silence, Fred said:

"Well, I think it worked didn't it?"

Everyone laughed at Fred's rhetorical question. After a few seconds, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley. She was still standing stone-faced in the back of the room, as if she were in shock. Everyone fell silent as Harry approached the unmoving matriarch.

"I'm so sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry said softly as he tried to fight back another bout of tears. "I wanted to tell you… I should have told you. I'm sorry for making you think that I was dead."

Harry stood in front of Molly, who just stared past him, as if he wasn't there.

"Please forgive me, Mrs. Weasley," Harry begged.

"I don't _ever_ want to hear you call me that again," Molly began as she finally looked into Harry's tear filled eyes. These were the same tear-filled eyes that she saw after the final task for the Tri-Wizard tournament when Harry was in the hospital ward. The poor boy had been riddled with ill-placed guilt and was blaming himself for Cedric's death. Molly held him then like a mother as Harry sobbed in her arms.

She knew that Harry had never been held like that before and it just broke her heart. Harry needed that love; the love that was taken away from him when his mother was murdered. Molly knew from that moment in the hospital ward that Harry wasn't just her son's best friend anymore; she would do her best to fill that awful void in Harry's life.

Over the next two years, Molly had tried to bond with the young man. Her affection for him continued to grow until she considered him as her own son. Then that dreadful day happened, and two of her boys were torn away from her. The grief that she felt was nearly unbearable.

Now, years after she had lost him, Harry stood in front of Molly pleading for forgiveness. All the years of pain and sadness seemed to disappear as Molly looked into her Harry's eyes.

"I don't ever want to hear you call me 'Mrs. Weasley' again," Molly repeated as a slight bloom appeared on her cheeks. With trembling hands, she cupped Harry's face and said: "You call me Mum."

Fin

* * *

Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, sasqch, who was a big help (even inadvertently suggesting the plot when he asked: "Do you think Rowling will have Harry fake his own death?"). Also, thanks to my other beta, Penelope78, who worked on the re-beta. I'd like to thank the late Akira Kurosawa, whose classic "Rashomon" inspired the manner in which this story was told.

I would also like to thank everyone who took the time to read and left a review for my story. – Bob


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